Counterpoint
by eirabach
Summary: Bella Swan had always been kind, selfless and unassuming. Oh, and miserable. Then there was the incident with the broom, and nothing was ever quite the same. AU/AH. Canon couples.
1. Grimm

**A/N: I haven't abandoned 'Human Nature'; it's just turning out to be a pretty dark piece of writing, and I'm not in the right place in my head at the moment to concentrate all my efforts on it, so here is my therapy: hopefully amusing all human fic :D. Sure everybody writes it, but now it's my go!  
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**I am making a concerted effort to keep the characters as IC as I can, considering nobody's a vampire and all, but there will probably be a few moments when I fail horribly. Just warning you now. Oh, and if you're a Jacob fan? Me too, but I'm horrid to him in this chapter. I have guilt.**

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**Chapter One – Grimm**

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"**The way to read a fairy tale is to throw yourself in."**

**- W.H. Auden.**

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_Once upon a time in a land far, far away from many places, but comparatively close to others, there lived a girl._

_The girl was shy, quiet and unassuming with rich brown eyes and pale, pale skin. She lived peacefully in the far away land, always caring for others, never thinking of herself._

_Then there came the incident with the broom, and the day the girl decided that her peaceful, unassuming life just wasn't enough._

_That was the day Bella Swan's fairy tale began._

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In the end what it came down to was the touching.

She might have thought, when she first opened the door, that he was only coming round to settle her in; to say goodbye; to be her best friend again. After six hours of listening to his ranting, she'd begun to realise she'd made a major error of judgement.

She'd spent almost the entire time she'd been in her new apartment, in her new city, in her new _life_ trying to convince her old life to get out and leave her the hell alone.

"You know you're being ridiculous, Bells. You need us! We need you! This has gone too far and it's got to stop…"

She settled further into the plastic covered cushions of her very first sofa, and forced the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. Maybe, if she pushed hard enough, she'd go totally blind and could pretend he'd gone away. She sighed deeply, and repeated the line she'd been using for the last five and a half hours.

"It's my decision, Jacob. I'm a grown woman. I need my own life."

"What you need is to be looked after! You can't cope out here on your own! You should stay with Charlie, or with me. I'd look after you. I'd treat you like a princess, you know that."

Actually, perhaps opening the door hadn't been her first mistake. Perhaps her first mistake had been returning to Forks after four years of college, and admitting it hadn't been all she'd thought it would be. Or maybe it had been years before that, when she'd left her flighty mother in the care of her sprightly young husband and gone off to Forks to play wife and mother to her terminally undomesticated father. Maybe it was an accident of birth. Whatever that first mistake had been, Bella Swan had spent nigh on twenty four years living with the consequences.

Jacob Black storming around her apartment, tearing at his hair and ranting at her inability to take care of herself, was just the most recent one.

"I coped just fine in college, Jake."

She dropped her hands from her eyes; blindness wouldn't make him disappear, she was starting to believe nothing would. Maybe she could start her job anyway; maybe nobody would notice the insane stalker raving behind her everywhere she went.

"You hated college! You told me so yourself. You said it was nothing like you expected."

Confirmation, then, that her overwrought confession of a miserable college education was definitely something to be added to the pile of 'Bella's big mistakes'.

It hadn't been a lie, of course, Bella was a dreadful liar and always had been, but it had been a slight exaggeration of the truth brought on by too many glasses of wine and the sympathetic ears of Charlie and Jacob. The truth was that she'd gone to college with the express intention of leaving the old, reliable Bella back in Forks to rot. She would be brave, sexy and witty. She would flirt and dance, drink and grow up. Then, after the first semester, the truth had hit her with the force of a wrecking ball. She was none of those things. All she had the time for was study, all her passion saved up for her books, and the only social event she ever attended was graduation, with Jacob and Charlie smiling at her from the front row. She'd never have admitted to them that half the reason for her unhappiness was her sickening guilt at leaving them behind. After all, it had taken her this long to admit it to herself.

College had been a waste of effort, or so she'd thought till she'd returned home.

She'd been happy at first, returning to her comfortable old routine of laundry, cooking and shifts at a Mom-and-Pop outdoors store. It had been familiar, and the old Bella had embraced it. She had even embraced Jacob, just the once, just to see if what he'd been telling her since Junior High was true, to see if maybe they really were meant to be together, and that had been comfortable too. She might have put on her slippers and settled down there and then to a life of contented domesticity.

Then Angela happened.

She'd spent a lot of time with Angela at school, since they were both the shy, studious, unassuming types, and they'd remained friends, in their own quiet way, ever since. It had been a Friday afternoon and Bella was working in Newton's, arranging Hi-Vis jackets with impeccable precision, when the over-door bell rang, and Angela came stumbling in.

This had been odd in its self, and should have been Bella's first sign that something unusual was afoot. Bella was the clumsy one who stumbled and slipped her way through life; Angela was as steady on her feet as she was in her mind, or so Bella had always thought, anyway.

So Angela stumbled in, all bright eyes and flushed cheeks, and told Bella that she'd met the man of her dreams, found a job she adored, and she was off to New York City, right now. Sayonara and good riddance to old, reliable Angela and her old, reliable life.

Bella had screwed up her face into the best smile she could manage as she watched her leave, and then she'd walked into Mr Newton's office and quit on the spot.

Jacob hadn't liked that. He'd liked this move to Seattle and this new adult job even less.

Which was why she should have known better than to let him in; hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

Mind you she was getting better at tuning him out, or so she thought. Unfortunately she'd tuned him out so successfully that she didn't even realise he'd stopped his pacing until she found herself glaring at the knee of his jeans.

"Just come home with me," he wheedled, and the voice she'd once found so warm and comforting made her stomach turn, "I _need_ you, Bella."

"Oh you _need _me do you?"

There was something dangerous in her voice now, something she was unfamiliar with herself, and if Jacob had had any sense whatsoever, he might have known when to quit. Unluckily for him, his common sense went momentarily absent without leave.

"Of course, Bella, we were made for each other. Come home with me, come home with me and I'll make you happy…" and then he touched her.

He didn't just touch her shoulder, or stroke her hair - either of which she might have forgiven being, as she was, the forgiving type - he put both his big hands round her shoulders, lifted her from the sofa, and pressed his lips to hers.

That was the moment it all changed, and old Bella, comfortable, quiet, homebody Bella, blinked out of existence.

The first defining action of new Bella's existence was to wriggle free of his grasp, and punch Jacob Black square in the nose. She didn't even gasp at the pain in her knuckles. Somewhere, buried deep inside her psyche, a remnant of her old self cringed in horror. Her new self had an irrational urge to jump up and down whilst squealing like a toddler

"Bella!" Jacob clutched at his nose in horror, eyes wide, watching her like she was some sort of rabid animal, "What's got in to you!" His eyes narrowed, "Oh God. Bells, are you on drugs? Is that what this is about?"

"What this is _about_, Jacob Black," she snarled, trying not to draw attention to her injured hand and flexing it gently behind her back, "is you telling me what to do."

"I just want what's best for you!"

He was backing up now, picking his way between the piles of boxes scattered through her living room and into her kitchen. She kept pace with him, trapping him in the corner of the kitchen area with his back up against the cabinets. She might have tried to herd him towards the door before, but now she was determined: she was going to have her say.

"You want what's best for _you_. That's all you've ever wanted. You and Charlie and even my mother, not one of you ever bothered to ask what I wanted or what I needed…"

"Bella, Bella," he soothed, and she felt the bile rise in her throat, "we just want what's best for you…"

"You keep saying that!" She was shrieking now, her dark hair falling out of its ponytail and sticking to her furiously red face. "You don't know anything! You don't… you don't…"

He used her exasperation to his advantage, spinning them round so that she was the one stuck, trapped against the cabinets, trapped like she'd always been before – how he wanted her to stay. He looked down at her with a mixture of pity and lust, a combination so obnoxious, so inconceivably irritating, that her aching right hand clenched reflexively readying itself for another smack.

It closed on the wooden shaft of her cellophane wrapped broom.

"Oh, my Bella," he sighed.

She gagged. Had she ever found that attractive? Had she ever thought that that was what she wanted? She sure as hell didn't think so now.

"For the four hundred and eighty sixth time tonight, Jacob. I am not yours, nor was I ever, nor will I ever be so. I'm happy, I'm grown up, I'm living my own place on my _own terms_. How does this not get through to you? I really think you should leave."

He leant down; his lips far too close to her face. For a fleeting moment she imagined vomiting on his shoes. That would get the point across very effectively, surely?

"Get out."

She kept her voice level, gripping the broom handle with all her might. When he smiled his pitying little smile at her, she squeezed it so hard she thought it might shatter.

"You don't mean that, Bells."

Count to three. Swallow the angry tears. Stay Calm.

"Get. Out."

In a move that she would never have thought herself capable of, she swung the broom from behind her and brandished it like a weapon.

"But you love me," he said, and she snapped.

It was surprising, really, that despite his size and ridiculous attitude she still managed to force him down the corridor to the front door even with the broom as leverage, but from the moment she'd lifted it to his chest and heaved something had changed in his expression. The absolute conviction, the arrogance was gone. She should have felt guilty; she thought maybe she would have, once, but instead all she felt was relief. Relief and a sense of power that she had thought she'd never feel.

She'd forced him in to the corridor now, and her shouts along with the sound of a six-foot five giant being smacked with the bristle end of a broom seemed to have attracted a small crowd of onlookers from neighbouring apartments. Perhaps they were concerned about domestic violence, or perhaps they were just checking out the newest nut-jobs the landlord had let in, but none of them as much as spoke.

For a moment there was total silence in the corridor. Bella watched Jacob, Jacob watched the broom, and the combined gazes of the neighbours flickered between them, all waiting for the first move.

For the first time in her life, Bella made it.

"I don't love you," she began – a female neighbour gasped -, "or at least, not in the way you want me to love you. You've been my best friend for so long Jake, but that doesn't mean anything if you can't let me make my own choices. I'd never force a choice like this on you, you know that."

"You want me to leave?"

He sounded so sad, so broken, that if she hadn't been telling him the same thing for most of the day she might have felt guilty enough to let him back in. As it was she battened down the hatches of her heart, and nodded.

"I want you to leave."

He made as if to take a step towards her, and she raised the broom in warning.

"Now, Jacob,"

To her great surprise, he actually did; shrugging off down the corridor with his tail between his legs.

Bella stood in the doorway, broom held aloft in victory, surrounded by the murmurs of her neighbours, and swallowed back the last of her traitorous tears.

There was no going back now, because if she needed to fix things with Jacob after this it was going to take a whole lot more from her than she was willing to give.

So she stood there - a new Bella for a new life - and figured how hard could it be, really? Because if mousy little Angela Weber could do it, Isabella Swan damn well could.

Yes, it had started with the touching, but that wasn't where it ended.


	2. Peculiar

**A/N: In which Bella develops a guilt complex and hates on a pigeon, and we meet several of our canon friends (or not).**

**This chapter is lovingly dedicated to Daz (a.k.a Avid); my (and half the county's, judging by the awards) favourite partially sighted bus driver. You rule.**

**Disclaimer: None of the characters within are mine, they are all the property of Stephenie Meyer. I make no profit off this, and I made none last chapter either although I forgot the disclaimer. Whoops.**

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**Chapter Two – Peculiar**

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**De Libertus Quirkas **

**- Unofficial motto of the neighbourhood of Fremont, Seattle**

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All things considered Bella wasn't particularly impressed with herself right about now. She tugged at her coat and scarf and scowled irritably at everything around her, hopefully warning any passersby to be cautious in case they became victims of her wrath. Though, if she was honest, Bella was dying for somebody to approach her with some irritating comment or other in the hope that she could take her foul mood out on anybody who wasn't herself; not that it would make the slightest difference. After all, her mood was all of her own making.

It had taken a grand total of six minutes for her to come down from the high of removing Jacob from her apartment at broom-point, only for her to have spent the rest of the night failing to deal with her growing sense of guilt. When she had finally dragged herself – exhausted and bleary-eyed – out of her apartment to face the first day of her very exciting, guilt causing new life she had been faced with unseasonably chilly weather and a long wait for the bus.

And her hand was in fucking agony.

_You were right, _she told herself whilst glaring murderously at a pigeon, _what you told Jacob was true. You both need to move on_.

She furrowed her brow and pulled her collar up higher against the biting wind. If she couldn't convince herself she was in the right, how the hell was she supposed to convince anybody else? Especially people as convinced of their point of view as Jacob and Charlie?

_It's not cold, _she tried, _it's lovely and fresh. The wind blows out the cobwebs, and catching the bus is good for my carbon footprint_.

She groaned and pushed the loose pieces of hair out of her face. This little pep-talk wasn't working either; it was too fucking cold and she hadn't had to stand and wait for a bus since she was sixteen. Her major reasoning behind the purchase of her first car (a truly ancient truck that she had loved _thank you very much_) had been that whenever she'd caught the bus she'd always seemed to end up stuck next to the local weirdo. Her luck wasn't changing on that front, and Seattle had an awful lot more weirdoes to choose from than Forks.

A prime example was the man she was standing by now. When she'd arrived at the bus stop a few blocks from her home she'd asked the young blond guy already waiting if she'd got the right stop. He'd assured her that she had, and he'd seeming pretty normal with his friendly smile and nice blue eyes; she'd even thought he was handsome. Then the whistling had started.

Oh _god_ the whistling. For almost the whole fifteen minutes she'd been stood there he'd been whistling 'Dixie' with great enthusiasm. _Repeatedly_. They were about as north as it was possible to get in the states without heading to Alaska. He was obviously nuts.

Which was why, by the time the bus turned up, she'd already committed half of her first pay-check to the 'New-Car-for-Bella-Before-She-Wants-to-Die' fund. That's if she ever got to work, because the first thing she noticed on stepping on board was that the driver was wearing an eye-patch.

_Brilliant_. _Death or maiming awaits._

The car fund was swiftly renamed to replace 'wants' with '_does_', and this form of transport was to be henceforth know as the 'odd bus'.

She jumped off at her stop with a mixture of relief and dread, because when it came to the crunch the choice between time spent with a possibly psychotic southerner and a blind bus driver, and her first day at the Seattle Times she couldn't quite decide which was worse, but any relief at escaping the 'odd bus' was sadly short lived. The Seattle Times building was large, gray and imposing, and, to Bella's great distress, had a very hard marble entrance lobby floor.

Thirty seconds into her first day, and she'd already decided that her professional business woman heels needed to be condemned to the 'Bella's Big Mistake' bin. She had enough difficulty staying on her feet barefoot on carpet, never mind in three inch heels on shiny surfaces under the beady-eyed glare of the receptionist.

Bella forced her shoulders back, trying to give off an aura of confidence, whilst watching her feet and the receptionist's glare at the same time. God, she hoped she didn't look like she had a lazy eye. Her foot twisted beneath her, and she stood stock still, gasping for breath, and tried to surreptitiously see if any one had noticed her near pratfall. That was really all she needed, it would be the icing on the top of a horrible morning, and it wasn't yet nine-o-clock.

Luckily, the one person paying her any attention was the red-headed receptionist. Unluckily, she was looking at Bella like she'd just crawled from under her shoe. This day was improving by the second.

"Hi," Bella tried to inject confidence she didn't feel into her voice, "my name's Isabella Swan, I'm due to start today as a junior copy editor?"

She cringed slightly; that hadn't meant to sound like a question.

"Swan?" asked the girl, eyes narrowing further, "Oh yes, I think I remember hearing something about you from Mr. Jackman."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, and turned away.

_Oh great,_ thought Bella, _very helpful. Thanks._

She put on her best polite smile, and tried again.

"Do you think you could direct me to where I need to be?"

The receptionist slammed both hands down on her keyboard and huffed as if Bella had just asked her to produce an ingot of purest gold from her ass. Glaring at Bella from the corner of her eye she picked up the phone and began to simper at whoever was on the other end.

"Oh, hello, Mr Jackman, it's Victoria speaking. I'm _terribly _sorry to interrupt you, but there's a new starter at the front desk who needs to know… Yes, sir. Isabella Swan, sir. Yes, yes, right away."

Her glare, if possible, got even more hateful, but she kept her voice obnoxiously sweet as she hung up and turned back to Bella.

"Mr Jackman wants to see you straight away. Take the left hand elevator to the third floor. It's the sixth door on the right."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks for the help?"

She hadn't really intended for it to come out sounding like a question, but the receptionist's – _Victoria's _– attitude had left her feeling a little confused and even more uncomfortable than she'd already felt. What had she managed to do to offend this woman before she even opened her mouth?

Victoria sneered in reply; showing her perfectly straight, white teeth. Bella made off towards the elevators with a little more speed than caution, and sighed with relief as the doors closed on the image of Victoria turning her attention to her own reflection in a powder compact.

The journey to the third floor gave her enough time to smooth the wrinkles from her skirt and run her fingers quickly through her ponytail before knocking lightly, and she hoped confidently, at the office door of Aristotle Jackman, Editor-In-Chief.

When she'd last met Mr Jackman he'd been sat in on her interview for the position looking professionally serious, so she was mildly surprised when, instead of calling her in, he threw the door open before she'd even dropped her hand.

"Bella!" he exclaimed, opening his arms wide as if he was going to hug her, "I'm so glad to see you, dear. So very, very glad. Come in! Come!"

He beckoned her forward, and Bella shuffled into the room, biting the inside of her cheek uncomfortably. The beaming man in front of her was nothing like the rather dour elderly gentleman she'd met in the interview room a few weeks ago; she was starting to wonder if anything about this place was going to go how she expected it to. Perhaps instead of accepting the job of a lowly copy editor she'd accidentally applied to be a lion-tamer or something. Or maybe Mr Jackman was still a little tipsy from a soiree the night before. It _was _still rather early.

"I'm glad that you're glad, sir," she said, and internally cringed at her choice of words.

_Yeah Bella, brownnose like a __**pro**__ why don't you?_

"Indeed! Indeed!" he cried, clapping his wrinkled hands together like a child high on skittles, "I'm sure you'll be an invaluable asset to this company, my dear. Absolutely invaluable! Please, call me Aro, I much prefer it. I like to think of us as a family, Bella. If you please, dear…"

He grasped her elbow and led her out of the door and down the corridor. His grip was deceptively strong.

"And here we are!"

He stopped in front of an unexceptional etched glass door and flung it open as if it were the entrance to Narnia, pushing Bella through in front of him hard enough for her to stumble and have to grab hold of his arm for support. This may have given the occupants of the room rather the wrong impression.

Watching from their desks in the centre of the room were two men not much older than Bella herself and a slightly older, very attractive, woman. The woman and the dark haired man were looking between Aro and Bella with expressions of mild amusement, the second, fairer, man looked rather irritated. In the far corner of the room behind a semi-circular desk sat a man almost as old as Aro who was paying them no mind whatsoever. Bella thought he might actually be asleep.

"This will be your office Bella," Aro gestured towards the empty desk opposite the fair-haired man, "and your co-editors; Heidi Bryant, Laurent Rousseau," he gestured to the woman and dark haired man, "and of course James Shotton…"

The irritated man looked even more irritated, but Aro seemed undaunted.

"…and in the corner is Marcus Holdsworthy, your senior in this office. Everybody, this is Bella Swan, your new colleague."

He made her sound like an early Christmas gift. Heidi, Laurent and James managed unenthusiastic hellos. Marcus Holdsworthy didn't even move. Aro didn't notice.

"Is it just the five of us, sir? I mean, Aro?"

Bella was frantically running the circulation numbers of the Seattle Times through her head, surely four copy editors and a man so still he might be dead couldn't be expected to edit the whole daily paper? She'd never leave, and the prospect had never seemed so unappealing.

"Oh no, silly Bella," he cooed like a doting uncle, "this office is for the new hires to learn the trade. You'll be editing recipes, planned articles, horoscopes, things of that nature. There's a much larger team to take on the daily deadline pieces. Depending on the quality of your work, you may be moved up there sooner rather than later."

He beamed at her.

"But we don't have to worry about that with you do we?"

Bella tried for a non-committal smile; unsure if that was an insult, or just a very back-handed compliment.

"Well no time to waste, I must be off. Your log-in details are on your desk, Bella, and you'll find most of our writers are very prompt when it comes to emailing you their work."

He shooed her off towards her desk and twirled out the room, slamming the door behind him.

There was a very awkward silence.

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The awkwardness lasted most of the morning and almost all of the afternoon broken only by the tapping of keyboards and occasional whispered conversations between Laurent and James. Once, at about half past eleven when Bella was checking a particularly uninspiring holiday review for commas, Marcus sneezed. It was the first sign she'd had that he was actually alive, and she felt a slight weight lift off her shoulders with the relief of knowing that she wasn't working in the same office as a corpse. So it came as a bit of a shock when, an hour before clocking off time and twenty five minutes before the deadline, the door flew open to reveal a very small, very smiley woman. Heidi rolled her eyes so hard Bella could practically hear them, but Bella was so relieved to have an interruption that she offered her tiny saviour the biggest grin she could manage.

"Hello, Alice," James said, a knowing little smile playing on his lips; it was the first time Bella had really heard him speak, and his tone gave her the shudders. Evidentially it didn't impress Alice either, because she completely blanked him to beam at Bella and perch herself on the edge of her desk. James looked thunderous.

"Hello!"

Her voice was high and bright, and Bella felt her smile widen in response.

"You're Bella Swan, right? I'm Alice, Alice Cullen."

"How do you know my name?" Bella blushed, immediately ashamed, "I mean… that is to say… hello, Alice. Nice to meet you."

"Alice knows everything," sneered Heidi, "the fabulous All-Knowing Alice."

"That's right," said Alice brightly, paying no attention to Heidi's tone, "that's why I've brought you these of course."

She waved a single sheet of A4 in Bella's face.

"I'm sorry I couldn't email it over, it would have failed and you'd never have got them before deadline."

Bella looked down. The paper contained a list of daily horoscopes, each no more than a couple of sentences long. Aro hadn't been joking when he'd said she'd only being doing really junior work, but she couldn't help but feel chirpy about it in Alice's presence.

"All-knowing, right?"

"Completely," agreed Alice with a very serious expression, "although," she lowered her voice so Heidi would struggle to hear, "I also happen to live a couple of doors down from you. Good show with the broom by the way. You looked pretty bad-ass waving it over your head like that."

Bella felt her face growing hot again. It was just her damn luck to end up working with somebody who'd witnessed her losing her cool so spectacularly. Alice just winked.

"I'd better get going," she said, jumping off the edge of the desk like a child, "I'm expected elsewhere. It's lovely to meet you at last, Bella. I'll be round as soon as you've unpacked your boxes."

She practically danced over to the door, paying no attention to James's dark stare or Heidi, Laurent and Marcus's indifference. Just as she pulled it open, she turned to Bella with a glint in her eye and a pointing finger.

"We're going to be the best of friends."

Then she disappeared into the corridor.

Bella blinked rapidly. She was sure that if anybody else had said those words with that kind of conviction she'd probably have a stalker on her hands, but Alice seemed harmless enough. That sort of confident, happy persona was just the kind that Bella was hoping to cultivate for herself so it certainly wouldn't hurt to have a friend to learn from. Plus, Alice Cullen looked to be about four foot ten and not an ounce over ninety pounds. Bella was pretty sure that she could take her in a fight.

And she'd said 'at last', which meant that Alice had actually been looking forward to meeting her. Bella was confident that was a first.

"Little bitch," hissed Heidi, and James's face contorted into a horrible scowl.

By the time Bella had typed up and checked over Alice's horoscopes, she was more than ready to leave. The atmosphere had grown so poisonous after Alice's visit that even Marcus had left the room for a few minutes, and rather than wait for the elevator with her unpleasant colleagues and risk another encounter with Aro, Bella took off her too unstable shoes and pegged it down the stairs and out the door as fast as she was able. She considered the fact that she managed to stay on her feet the whole way a reward from karma for her slightly weird and somewhat unhappy first day.

She stood waiting for the odd bus in her bare feet, shoes tucked safely under her arm, and considered her options. She could go back to her apartment and unpack boxes, which was both boring and likely to lead to Jacob related guilt trips, or she could do something different, a reward to her self for making it through the day without the need to go crawling back to Forks and prove everybody right. She needed to do something familiar, something comfortable, but nothing that could lead to feelings of homesickness or unworthiness.

By the time the odd bus pulled up she'd already made her decision, and the fact that the bus driver's eye patch had swapped sides since the morning didn't faze her in the slightest.


	3. Civil

**A/N: In which Bella finds a buddy. **

**This chapter's dedicated to Craig, whose disgust with biased history books led to a lot of library bans for us all.**

**I'm not 100% on this, and I've not yet finished the next chapter - I usually keep one finished chapter in reserve - but I'm off to the wilds this weekend so I thought I'd give you something for while I'm gone! And since I'm so kind to you, you won't mind reviewing will you? :D  
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**Disclaimer: The characters herein are the property of one Stephenie Meyer, not I. All I own is a mentally handicapped cat (the real Eira) and a very large pile of washing, which I am neglecting.**

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**Chapter Two – Civil**

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"**The game's afoot."**

**- Henry V, William Shakespeare**

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There seemed to be a few sacred truths that Bella would be forced to carry through from her old life to her new one; commandments of sorts to keep both sides of her on the straight and narrow: Thou shalt not strip in public, thou shalt not hurt kittens, thou shalt find the nearest public library and claim the comfiest seat for thyself.

The Fremont branch of the Seattle Public Library was just about cozy enough to distract Bella from the way she was starting to compartmentalise her personality like the world's most logical schizophrenic, but, if all else failed, the seats in the self-help section looked acceptably well-padded. She sighed and settled herself into a armchair in a secluded corner. Normally she'd pick a place she could people watch from – her nosiness was deeply enough ingrained in her to survive the transition to new-Bella – but today she just wanted to surround herself with the smell of paper and dust, and wallow.

She closed her tired eyes and tried to take stock. Firstly, her boss was a crazy person – not something she'd mentally prepared herself for – but at least he seemed harmless, and he certainly looked to have plenty of confidence in her ability to do her job.

_So he fucking well should if all I'm editing is recipes for pie and three line horoscopes._

That was immaterial though. If she hadn't wanted to be a copy editor, she could have applied for something better. Not that she would have; Aro's confidence in her ability was far higher than her own, and she could hardly blame him for treating her like a staff member on the bottom rung of the ladder when she'd voluntarily put herself there.

Somebody began grumbling nearby. Bella struggled with the urge to shush them, though she groaned out loud herself when she compared Aro's reaction to her with that of her other colleagues. Heidi had been stoic and unfriendly from the start, though Marcus and Laurent had just seemed uninterested, and James had appeared to be equally disgusted with everybody and everything so she could hardly take his attitude personally. She had no idea what had been going on in the office before she walked in; maybe she was reading far too much into things and they'd all just been having a bad day. It wasn't like Bella had made much of an attempt to be friendly towards _them_, and she could hardly expect friends to flock to her if all she did was mumble and blush at people.

The nearby grumbler cursed loudly, and Bella nodded her head in agreement: _for fuck's sake indeed_.

Only two people had really been friendly to her all day – Aro's grip had been a little too tight for her to count him – Alice the pixie person and the whistling southerner from the bus stop, and all she'd managed to do was mumble hopelessly at one of them and tried to take the other out with her laser beam glare. New Bella had yet to develop the stunning social skills that she had been hoping for.

Plus, Alice had witnessed the Jacob-broom incident so probably thought Bella was at least slightly unhinged, and Bella personally felt that the jury was still out on the southerner.

_Maybe everyone in this town is either evil or loopy?_

No, Bella decided as she opened her eyes, wallowing wasn't making her feel any better at all.

"For the love of fuck!" wailed the grumbler.

Bella scowled. If she couldn't wallow successfully then she at least wanted to be left in the sort of thick, peaceful silence that libraries were supposed to possess. She looked over to the front desk only to see a woman so old that she probably wouldn't have heard the roof falling in, by the look of her the last thing she _had_ heard had been the declaration of independence. No help to be found in that quarter then. A loud slamming sound came from behind one of the sets of shelves to Bella's right. It sounded like the spine of a thick hardback book hitting the floor with force. Bella stood up; upsetting her silent brooding was one thing, the vicious and purposeful abuse of library property was quite another.

She crept between the stacks – ready to apprehend the suspect red-handed and subject them to her punishment of a _really_ dirty look – when another mumbled complaint drew her attention downwards.

Sticking out from beneath the stack to her left were the legs and lower torso of a man.

"Are you okay?" Bella asked, before rolling her eyes at her own stupidity. Even she, in her lowest moments, had never become intimately acquainted with a library's dust-bunnies.

"Is it safe?" whimpered the grumbler, his voice muffled by carpet and several decades' worth of fluff.

"Is what safe?" Bella hissed back, casting an unnecessarily nervous glance in the direction of the ancient front desk clerk.

"For me to come out: Is the coast clear?"

Bella blushed, and then had to bite her lip to keep from sniggering. For the first time in many a year some other poor bastard was facing humiliation in her presence. The idea gave her a little bit of a guilty thrill.

"Yeah," she managed, "it's only me here."

The man sighed heavily and began inching himself out backwards, dragging something weighty with him. Bella was just starting to reconsider her 'it's just me' comment – after all hadn't she just been sat there thinking that everyone she met seemed a little unusual, and Charlie's stock of pepper spray was still in a packed box somewhere in the depths of her apartment – when he unfolded himself from the floor and beamed at her in greeting.

"Pigeon girl!"

It was the whistling southerner. Of _course_ it was the whistling southerner; that was just the sort of luck she had.

Wait, pigeon girl?

She stared at him gormlessly for a moment and his smile dimmed slightly. He shuffled the large leather-bound book that he'd dragged from under the stack under his left arm, and held out his right hand for her to shake.

"I'm sorry, that was impolite. It's just, this morning I was having a pretty rough time, and you were glaring at pigeons like they owed you something and it kind of cheered me up, so I thought of you as pigeon girl. Which you're not, obviously, because –"

His smile brightened again and he raised both eyebrows like he was waiting for something.

_Manners are free, Bella, _she chastised herself, and shook his hand.

"Bella Swan. And if it makes you feel any better, I've been thinking of you as the whistling southerner, Mr -?"

He laughed, an easy, comforting kind of laugh, and she wondered how she could ever have found him frightening. He was wearing cowboy boots and hanging out in a library for god's sake, how threatening could he be?

"It's Jasper," he said, and she felt her own smile grow to match his, "Jasper Whitlock, ma'am, at your service."

She giggled; she just couldn't help herself, something about his presence made her feel at ease.

"And," he added, dropping her hand before the situation got uncomfortable, "you were quite right. I am from the south, and I was whistling. You, on the other hand, are not a pigeon, though quite evidently you are a girl."

"Very observant of you Mr Whitlock," Bella found herself walking beside him towards his seat without even realising, "and I can't say that I generally hold much animosity towards them. Today has just been a weird day all round."

"You found a cowboy stuck under the stacks; that's not a daily occurrence, even around here."

Jasper balanced the large book on top of the teetering pile already on his desk.

"I wouldn't know," Bella sighed, sinking into his chair and leaving him to lean on the edge of the desk, "I've only been here twenty four hours."

For a fleeting moment she wondered when she'd become so comfortable talking to strangers.

"How did you get under there anyway?" she asked. Jasper shrugged.

"Sometimes I get a bit… frustrated with my reading. I'm afraid on this occasion I took it out on the book, which ended up under the stack. And since that particular book is worth more than my apartment…"

He shrugged again.

Bella glanced at the book pile. On every spine that she could see was a title relating to the role and actions in the confederacy in the Civil war, and one copy each of 'The Rules of Risk' and 'Dressmaking for Beginners'. She raised an eyebrow, but kept her mouth shut.

"So you really like the Civil war, then?" _Smooth, Bella, real smooth_.

"It's what you might call a life's obsession, yes. I lecture at the university on occasion, and I had a presentation to the dean this morning. Hence the nerves and the foul mood," he leant forward and whispered, "my Momma always taught me that you can't be scared when you sing. But I thought if I started singing old Dixie, I might freak you out."

Bella blinked. What was she supposed to say to that? _Sorry, buddy. I still spent all day thinking you were a nutjob_?

"Yeah," she said, "that would have done it."

"Plus," he said, leaning back on the table with a bright smile, "I sing like a dying cat."

Bella couldn't help it, she laughed. Not a quite giggle or a fake ha-ha or even a sarcastic snort; she laughed so hard she felt a little sick. When she looked up she expected to see Jasper terrified or long gone - escaping the mental patient while he still could - but instead he just stood there looking like fucking Don Juan with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Thanks," she gasped as she tried to catch her breath, "I needed that."

"You need a more discerning sense of humour, kid. That was barely amusing," he began gathering up his books on war and sewing, "look, and I mean this totally platonically I swear, do you want to go get a coffee? You're new to the area and I can show you round a bit. Plus, you said you've had a rough day," he looked her in the eyes, "want to talk about it?"

Bella was about to say thanks but no thanks and head home to the Kilimanjaro of cardboard boxes in her living room, but a little voice in the back of her head stopped her. All day she'd been bemoaning the fact that she was all alone and nothing was going according to her plan, just like she'd done when college hadn't dropped friends and a career into her lap. This was her chance to stuck it up and take the hand of friendship when it was offered to her. _Make the fucking effort Swan_.

_You need us_, sneered her inner-voice, and it sounded just like Jacob. That was enough.

And Jasper didn't seem psychotic anymore, anyway.

"Sure," she said, taking a couple of books from his arms and heading with him towards the front desk, "coffee sounds great."

* * *

Coffee was great.

Jasper had dragged her off to some independently owned little corner shop that made its own blends and charged less than an hours wages for a rather large mug. If she wasn't in love with Jasper, she was sure as hell in love with his choice of coffee house. Of course she should have been in love with Jasper, if she were normal. He was handsome, he talked about his mother with respect, and he'd held the door open for her on their way in, but more than anything else Jasper was _charming_.

He'd listened to her rant and rave about her day, nodding along and making appropriately soothing noises, until she'd run out of things to moan about and had moved on to a long list of her grievances from childhood, and not once had he rolled his eyes or looked at his watch. Bella was pretty sure he could name, in chronological order, every pet goldfish she'd ever killed, but that didn't seem to bother him at all.

Jasper Whitlock was brilliant, but she got the strongest sense that he wasn't her type.

"So," she said, after realising that a whinge about the number of times she'd washed her dad's underwear was probably inappropriate material for public discussion, "what exactly made you throw a fit at that book earlier?"

His face darkened slightly.

"It was written by the victors. Most history books are, that's what I'm trying to put right."

"Really?" asked Bella, casting her mind back to High School history lessons, "I mean, I thought things like that were pretty cut and dry."

Jasper snorted, "That's just what the Yankees _want_ you to think. All they go on about is their moral reasoning. I'm a military historian, my interest lies in tactics and army life, not good guys and bad guys."

Bella raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you based a bit too far north for all the anti-Yankee rage?"

"I have my reasons," he said, but he looked slightly apologetic, like he'd offended her or something, "I didn't mean to be rude about your people."

"My people?" Bella laughed, "Don't you think you might be taking that a bit far?"

"Not at all," said Jasper seriously, and he stood from the table, "let me go get you another drink to make up for it."

He moved out of her line of sight and towards the counter, and that's when she saw it.

Leaning over, just a couple of tables away, was the greatest backside Bella Swan had ever laid eyes on.

She couldn't see the rest of the guy it was attached to (though he had nice legs to match), and Jasper returned before he turned round, but for two glorious minutes Bella gaped at some poor stranger's ass like a pervert. It felt strangely liberating.

"You look happier," Jasper commented as he pushed her coffee in front of her, "is the caffeine kicking in?"

"Maybe," Bella said, and blushed furiously.

Jasper raised an eyebrow, but didn't mention it again, and Bella thought she was very subtle in her attempts to peer round him to try and catch a peek.

They talked about rather less depressing things; Jasper told her about his college career and the many cool, interesting or just plain cheap night-spots he knew of in the city, and he seemed rapt with attention when she was telling him about All-Knowing Alice and her friendship demand.

"She sounds pretty interesting," he smirked. Bella snorted.

"She sounds a bit mental to me, but she wants to come round and play, so I'd better get back and make a start on unpacking."

She rose swiftly from the table, secretly hoping for another glimpse of Mr. Ass, but Jasper beat her to it, offering her both her jacket and his arm like a proper southern gentleman. She tried to look grateful, but really, the guy was preventing her perving and that just wasn't on.

Jasper even held the door open again and stood in the doorway so that he blocked her view back into the shop. She couldn't help scowling at him. Jasper reached down for her elbow and whispered in her ear as he led her into the street.

"That guy you've been trying to ogle? He's looking this way."

Immediately Bella felt the heat from her blush spread all the way from her toes to the top of her head. Drooling over some stranger's ass was one thing, but accidental eye-contact with the eye-candy? She'd rather die.

"That's what I thought," said Jasper with surprising confidence, "you're like an open book, Miss Swan."

"Thanks." Her scowl deepened, but Jasper just laughed.

"I need to get back to my books," he said, shrugging his backpack onto both shoulders to prove his point, "but I'll walk you to your block so you know the way, and I guess I'll see you on the odd bus in the morning?"

"You call it the odd bus too?" Bella asked, and then blushed again. She didn't like to think on what she'd thought about Jasper that morning anymore.

"Sure," grinned Jasper, "Darren, the driver? He gets odder by the week, man. Just you wait and see."

She left Jasper once she could see her way back to her own apartment, her steps a lot lighter now than they had been on the way to the library earlier. The idea that she'd made a friend, a witty, clever, _male_ friend that she'd chosen for herself was filling her with the confidence that she'd been lacking after her day in the office. This wasn't like her. Bella had always accepted the company she was given, Jacob, because their fathers' had been friends all their lives, Angela, because they'd been the two odd-ones-out of their otherwise socially active age group. She might have met Jasper under rather odd circumstances, but for the first time ever she felt that she had a friend that she _wanted_ to be friends with.

_God, listen to me,_ she grumbled in her head, _I sound like a Very Special Episode of Sesame Street or some crap._

It was still true though, and she couldn't help the silly grin that spread across her face as she skipped down the hallway to her apartment door. She looked about briefly for Alice - after all, two friends were better than one, right? – but the corridor was empty.

Her door wasn't though.

Neatly tacked in the exact centre of the wooden door was a piece of rather expensive looking writing paper, with a note scrawled haphazardly across it in large, curly letters.

_Bella – _

_Hurry up and sort that mess out. Your pans are in the bathroom boxes by the way. Why is that?_

_Much love,_

_Alice_

All-Knowing Alice had struck again.

Still, Bella _had_ been wondering where her saucepans were. It should have been creepy, like Alice had been sneaking in through windows while Bella was sleeping or something, but she was still too high on life to be freaked out. Instead she ripped the note off, sniggering, and took it inside with her, where, as promised, she found her casserole dishes and pans rattling around in a box full of tampons and towels.

That night she dreamt of books in cowboy hats, pixies hiding in her apartment, and the most beautiful ass in the world. In her dreams she gave Mr. Ass Johnny Depp's face because she thought she deserved it, and she woke up feeling better than she had in a very long. So much better, in fact, that when she and Jasper jumped on the bus together the next morning and the driver was wearing a pirate hat to match his eye-patch, all Bella did was laugh, and come to a single very firm conclusion:

Bella Swan was dead. Long live Bella Swan.


	4. Fortune

**A/N: In which Bella discovers something she doesn't like and something that she does.**

**Doing another trip this weekend - being as I'm such a social animal - so opefully this will bide you over for a little while!  
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**Disclaimer: Still not mine; still Stephenie Meyer's. I am prepared to swap a large and varied selection of tea-lights for the rights though, if she's willing.**

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**Chapter 4 – Fortune**

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"**You had time to waste, and I'm not sorry**

**Such a basket case, hide the cutlery"**

**- Time to Waste – Alkaline Trio**

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"I can't this Saturday, I'm sorry. I'm afraid I've made alternative arrangements. Truth is, I've met someone else."

"You know, a man could get hurt when you say things like that."

Bella smiled apologetically at Jasper as she slid into her now regular seat at his side on the bus, trying not to let her eyes drift to where Darren was wearing his newly acquired stuffed parrot with pride.

"No harm meant, Jazz," she said reassuringly, "in fact, I'm fairly certain I'd rather spend this Saturday debating the tactical merits of first Manassas with you than whatever Alice has planned, but if you knew her you'd know why I can't say no."

Jasper harrumphed his displeasure, but Bella was being totally honest. For some reason she found Alice Cullen impossible to refuse.

She'd rung the doorbell two nights ago, literally seconds after Bella had put the last of her knick-knacks away, and danced into Bella's living room before throwing herself down on the couch like it was hers.

"It's about time you finished," she'd said, "I'm taking you out on Saturday."

Bella had been too gob-smacked to disagree - after all, it hadn't really been a request – which was how she found herself having to turn down Jasper's offer of library time and coffee. She wouldn't have minded so much, but not only had her refusal made Jasper pout like a little girl, she was also missing out on another possible sighting of Mr. Ass. Jasper, such was his way, picked up on the real reason for her regret pretty quickly.

"I bet your little piece won't be wherever Alice takes you," he drawled, waggling his eyebrows for the lascivious effect.

It was Bella's turn to pout.

"I wouldn't know if he was, since _somebody_ wouldn't let me see his face."

Jasper shrugged, unmoved, "You could pick his backside out of a line-up though. Maybe you'll just have to spend the day looking –"

"Yes, yes, okay," Bella interrupted as her stop approached, "I bet your Momma would faint dead away at some of the things you come out with."

"My Momma rides rodeo, Bella. I think she'd be pretty damn proud."

Bella just had time to stick her tongue out in reply before she had to jump from the bus and into the bowels of the Seattle Times.

She groaned out loud as she walked through the lobby. The passage of time was not making this any more of a pleasant working environment.

At least she had no need to talk to Victoria today. The redhead's usually spiteful glare had turning sickeningly sweet and she was busy pawing all over some unfortunate man who'd had the misfortune to step too close to the spider's lair. For a second Bella pitied the guy, but then she caught sight of his face; it was James Shotton.

_Now there's a pair who deserves each other_.

Bella bit her lip as she shuffled into the crowded elevator.

It wasn't like her, or hadn't been like her at least, to think ill of people who were practically strangers. Normally her romantic soul found happiness in other people's love stories, but James Shotton was an absolute raging bastard, and she hoped Victoria boiled his bunny for lunch. That's if he hadn't already done it himself of course because, frankly, he seemed the type. His attitude was evidence enough. Over Bella's first week Heidi and Laurent had begun to loosen up towards her. They weren't friendly exactly, but she no longer felt the need to run bare-foot through the building to avoid them like she had on her first day. She even knew how many sugars they took in their coffee.

James was a completely different kettle of fish.

That morning went pretty much the same as every other had that week. Bella walked in to a half smile from Heidi and an actual 'good morning' from Laurent. Marcus even managed to nod his head, though he may just have been nodding off, and for a few moments the silence was only interrupted by the clacking of keyboards. It was light though, and hardly uncomfortable at all, until the moment James stormed in and the black cloud of awkwardness settled back over them all. Bella couldn't figure him out for the life of her. He seemed to have some kind of love-life, and even though Victoria was a vapid bitch Bella wouldn't deny that she was beautiful, and he had no more and no less work than anybody else in the office, but every time Bella risked a glance in his direction the vicious scowl never left his face.

A little voice in the back of her head was shouting as loud as it could that there was something _off_ about James, but most of the time she just ignored it, blaming it on her own small town paranoia of the big city. That was until she watched him around Alice.

Alice had bounded in just after lunch to confirm weekend plans with Bella and had perched herself neatly on the edge of Bella's desk just like she had on the first day, but no matter how hard Bella had tried to sound enthusiastic about trips to places and shops she'd never even heard of she was finding it increasingly difficult to tear her eyes away from James's expression.

He never took his eyes off Alice; staring at the back of her head like he was trying to bore holes into her skull. If looks could kill Bella knew without a doubt that Alice would have keeled over on the spot. It made her think of Peter Pan when Tinkerbell's little light flickered out, and the thought made her irrationally and unbearably sad. For Alice's part Bella wasn't sure if she was too caught up in her tales of boutiques and wine bars to even notice James, but she certainly didn't acknowledge him in any way the whole time she was there.

She left swiftly – the excuse of another place to be again; Bella found herself wondering what exactly Alice _did_ – leaving Heidi to turn on Bella with a smirk and a toss of her dark hair.

"Playing buddies with the baby Cullen are you, Swan?"

Bella grunted noncommittally. She didn't much like Heidi's tone, but she was loathe to make the working atmosphere any worse. Heidi's smirk broadened.

"Just you watch her. She's a proper little freak, that girl."

Bella narrowed her eyes. She barely even knew Alice, but she couldn't help feeling incredibly protective of her; she was so small and chirpy after all, Bella couldn't imagine how she could have offended Heidi.

"Now, now Heidi," soothed Laurent without looking up from his desk, "you know you have to be careful what you say about the Cullens."

"Why?" Heidi snorted, "Is the witch going to turn me into a newt?"

Laurent looked up, "I'm just saying, they're people of influence in this city."

He looked at Heidi as he spoke, but Bella felt like he was addressing her. She tried to pull her best 'subtly questioning' face at him, but he just went back to his work.

"She's not even a real Cullen though. I mean, what's got her thinking she's so special? She's just lucky."

Heidi gave her hair another extravagant toss, and turned her attention back to her keyboard.

"Oh Alice is something special alright," said James, his voice brimming with bile, and Bella felt a cold shudder run all the way down her spine.

For some reason James really, _really_ hated Alice Cullen.

* * *

Come nine o' clock on Saturday morning, Bella thought she might know how he felt.

She dragged herself over to answer the incessantly ringing doorbell while wiping sleep from her eyes. She had hoped that Alice would take pity on her bedraggled state and come back later. It wasn't to be.

"At last!" Alice stepped through the doorway looking obnoxiously impeccable in an evidently expensive green dress and beige mac combo.

Bella just groaned.

"Oh come on, Bella. You knew I was coming," Alice pouted, and the sight made Bella feel immediately guilty, "don't you want to go out?"

"Sure, sure," Bella covered her mouth as a yawn escaped, "but when you said morning, I thought you meant post-dawn."

Alice sniffed and walked past her into the living room.

"Now you're just being faecetious. You'd normally be at work by now."

"Exactly," Bella stepped round Alice to fetch her coffee from the kitchen counter, "which is why, since it's Saturday, I was hoping for a lie-in. Don't you ever want to sleep in a bit?"

Alice made a derisive sound that sounded very alien coming from her tiny, glamorous frame.

"Sleep is for suckers, Bella. I'll sleep when I'm dead."

She prised the cooling coffee from Bella's hands and pointed back into the hallway.

"Now go!"

For the sake of a quiet life Bella did as she was told, and reappeared in the living room half an hour later scrubbed, brushed, and – she thought – decently attired. Alice was running her fingers along the spines of the books on Bella's bookshelf, humming to herself with a small smile on her face. Her face brightened further as she turned to look at Bella, but then dropped dramatically as her gaze fell on what she was wearing.

"Oh no, you're not serious."

"What?" Bella looked down at herself. Had she forgotten pants?

She was wearing what she thought of as her 'best outfit'; a khaki skirt (also her only skirt), and a red buttoned blouse. Alice shook herself as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

"Bella, you're dressed like my grandma. You look like a button factory just threw up all over you."

"Oh no, Alice. Don't hold back. Say what you really mean."

Bella felt angry tears begin to prick at the back of her eyelids. She hadn't intended on spending the day listening to put-downs. She should just have gone to the library with Jasper and stopped trying to over-reach herself with an extra _girly_ friend.

Alice moved to stand in front of her, her face contrite but her hand constantly smoothing her green dress as if she thought Bella's dress sense might be catching.

"Don't be offended," she said, reaching out to take one of Bella's hands in both of her own, "well, actually, do, because that outfit is atrocious and should be burnt – but Bella, I only want to help. Clothes are important because they talk about you before you so much as open your mouth."

Bella rolled her eyes, but Alice's face was perfectly serious.

"Your clothes are talking to me Bella, and they are telling me that you have never bothered about yourself. They are pleading with me to ignore you."

"Why don't you then?" Bella grumbled, rather uncomfortable with Alice's perceptiveness.

It was Alice's turn to roll her eyes now.

"Silly Bella," she said, her face turning back to its usual wide grin, "haven't you figured it out yet? This is meant to be."

She tugged Bella towards the door with renewed enthusiasm and a determined twinkle in her eye.

"Your life is going to change," she crowed as she dragged Bella towards the parking garage, "I'm just starting with your wardrobe."

* * *

Bella experienced a lot of firsts that day.

Her first trip in a sports car – Alice's canary yellow Porsche had now been nick-named 'The Death Trap' – had led to her first day of shopping in boutiques where there were no price tags which had, in turn, led to her first cashmere related panic attack.

"Just try it on," Alice wheedled, "I know it'll look just perfect on you. Go on."

Bella held the sweater between thumb and forefinger and tried not to nervously sweat all over it.

"No Alice, you don't understand. I can't afford it, and I am the clumsiest person in the history of ever. If I put this on now I'll inevitably be involved in some bizarre and convoluted accident to ruin the sweater, which I'll then have to pay for, which I can't afford to do, so I will have to starve."

Alice snatched it from her rather roughly, and Bella cringed.

"Jesus, you're overdramatic. I'll just buy it, and if it's too small for you I'll keep it for myself."

Bella groaned.

"You're the pushiest person I've ever met."

Alice beamed.

"I know. It's taken years of practice. Now come on, lets get some lunch. You're going to need your energy."

Bella was overcome with a terrible sense of dread. She was beginning to think that shopping with Alice was some sort of karmic torture sent from the cosmos for using cleaning equipment against innocent boys.

Alice insisted on paying for lunch in a smart little restaurant just away from the main shopping area. Bella was still perusing the menu prices with dismay when the waitress put her plate of pasta down in front of her.

"Alice," Bella hissed, "everything in here costs a bomb. You've got to let me pay my own way."

"Don't be ridiculous," Alice said, sipping at a fruity cocktail, "it's no big deal. Today is my treat."

"What exactly is it that you do, Alice?"

Bella had been wondering for a while. Alice was always impeccably dressed, today had proven that she didn't go looking for bargains, and even somebody as fashion challenged as Bella knew that the red soles on her spiky heel meant that Alice was _loaded_. There was no way that the Seattle Times paid their horoscope writer enough to buy Christian Louboutins.

Alice shrugged.

"A little of this, a little of that," she twisted her napkin in her hands and looked up at Bella from under her eyelashes, "if I tell you, do you promise not to laugh? Most people think I'm a freak."

Bella thought back to Heidi's sneering face.

"I already think you're loopy, Alice, and I'm still here. It can't be that bad."

She had a sudden mental image of Alice dressed in leather and wielding a whip.

"Can it?"

Alice sighed, put her napkin down, and looked Bella directly in the eye.

"My parents – adoptive parents, I should say – are well off. They help me out if I need it, but I hardly ever do. Thing is, I can tell the future."

Bella couldn't help it; she snorted, and a little bit of cocktail came out her nose.

"So what, you're a fortune teller?"

"Not exactly," Alice's tone was deadly serious, "I scry, and I have visions. Dreams too, sometimes. I play the stockmarkets. It keeps me in the manner to which I am accustomed."

Anybody else, Bella would have dismissed as a lunatic, but there was something in Alice's expression that she wanted to believe.

"Can you see anything you want to?"

"Mostly, if I'm scrying for something, but the visions and dreams just come on. I can't help it."

Something dark flashed across her delicate features so quickly that Bella almost missed it, and then Alice was beaming again.

"And I'll tell you something, Isabella Marie Swan. I saw you coming."

She gestured at Bella's plate.

"Now eat up, because I see a lot more shopping in your future."

* * *

Alice, being all-knowing, was not wrong.

They made their way back to the car several long hours later, Bella weighed down by dozens of bags, the majority of the contents of which had been purchased by an insistent Alice, and most of which Bella didn't think she'd ever feel brave enough to wear.

Alice had banned buttons, too.

"Alice you do realise you don't have a trunk? We'll never get all this home."

"Have faith!" Alice cried from the depths of her car interior, where she was stuffing shopping bags into every available crevice.

Bella sighed and turned round to survey her surroundings, looking longingly at other, more practical, cars around them.

That's when she saw him.

He was twenty feet away, chatting on his cellphone, and completely unaware of her presence. She knew him though, oh yes. She'd know that ass anywhere.

And the _rest_ of him!

He was tall and slim – lanky, almost – smartly dressed with ruffled red-brown hair, and as for his face, his _face_, well, suffice to say Johnny Depp could go whistle if he thought he was starring in anymore of _her_ fantasies. Bella's heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst through her chest. She thought he must actually be able to hear it.

Then, as she stood there drooling over him like some moronic teenager, he looked up and saw her.

Bella did the only thing any self-respecting girl _could_ do when caught salivating over a god.

She hit the deck, pressed her back into the side of Alice's car, and prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her.

Alice slid out of the car with a cry of victory before blinking owlishly at Bella's position crouching on the asphalt.

"Why are you on the floor, Bella?"

Bella held her finger to her lips and looked at Alice beseechingly.

"Is he gone?" she hissed.

"Is who gone?" Alice stood on her tip-toes to look over the top of her car.

"The hot guy! The greek god! _Mr. Ass!_"

A silver car sped past them, and Bella tried to squeeze herself into a smaller ball. Ther fewer witnesses to her mortification the better.

"Who's Mr. Ass?" Alice stopped peering and held out a hand to pull Bella up. She was surprisingly strong.

"Just the hottest man I've seen. Ever."

Bella risked a glance back. He was gone.

_Probably back to his supermodel wife and sickeningly pretty children_, she thought, surprising herself with her own bitterness.

"Really?" Alice was biting her lip, and there was a twinkle in her eye that hadn't been there before.

"Really," sighed Bella as she tried to find room for herself in a passenger seat full of Alice's purchases.

"What are you going to do about it then?"

Bella huffed.

"Nothing. He's _beautiful_, Alice. There's no way someone like that would ever be interested in someone like me."

Alice sniggered.

"Coward," she said.

Bella had the strangest feeling that Alice wasn't referring to her.

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**A/N: Review? Go on, I know you're out there readers. I haven't started chapter five yet - so I need you to inspire me! Especially since chapter five should contain you know who. :D  
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	5. Ass

**A/N: In which Bella meets people in varying circumstances; some of them more than once. **

**So sorry for the wait. Real life. Ugh.**

**Longest chapter yet by **_**far**_**! I wanted to split it… but I made promises about the appearances in this chapter to my lovely reviewers and I couldn't back out on them! Thanks for all the reviews by the way, I love reading every one and I always reply. Unluckily for you I usually reply after several glasses of wine, so I go on a bit… just like I'm doing now! On with the show!**

**Oh… first. Chapter quote: Over 18? Read 'Vurt'. It's 'Trainspotting' meets 'Brave New World', and it's brilliant.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. I am making no money. Sigh.**

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**Chapter Five - Ass**

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'**Don't be scared, Scribble,' said Cinders. 'These are your friends.'**

'**I'm not sure about that,' I stammered.**

**- Vurt - Jeff Noon **

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"So how was your daytrip with the esteemed Miss Cullen?"

Bella could feel the weight of Heidi's gaze on the back of her neck, but refused to look up and meet it. She stared at the flashing cursor instead, knowing full well that if she did mention Alice in any way whatsoever it would only set a negative mood for the rest of the day. Though it was only Bella's second Monday at her job, she had already figured out that if she could avoid provoking James's irrational rage at the very start of the week it would serve her sanity well till Friday, but Heidi, either because she was some kind of masochist or because she just didn't care, didn't feel like letting the subject drop.

"God, I bet it was a _scream_. Did she read your palm? Oh! Oh!"

Heidi clapped her hands together excitedly, but Bella still didn't look at her. She could imagine the toothy grimace that passed for Heidi's 'friendly face' all too well.

"Did you meet the family? I know Doctor Cullen is a dish, and everyone says the brother's something special," she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "you know, they're a weird family. Half the people I know think that the little Cullen girl and her brother are fu-"

Bella slammed her open palms on the desk.

"That's enough. We went shopping. We went for lunch. We had a good time," a little white lie, perhaps, but Alice had seemed to have enough fun for the both of them, "The subject of relationships didn't come up, but I think it's fair to assume that that half of your acquaintance weren't in possession of their share of the communal brain cell when they came up with that little nugget of bullshit."

Heidi's eyes turned calculating.

"So she did read your palm then."

"We discussed her abilities, yes."

Bella tried to turn her attention back to her work, willing the angry flush to fade from her cheeks.

"Don't you think she's a _freak_?" asked Heidi with relish.

Bella summoned up the coolest, haughtiest countenance she could manage.

"I happen to think she's fascinating."

It wasn't a lie.

She hadn't seen Alice since Saturday evening – apparently Sunday was her 'hang out with Mom' day – and, after recovering from the humiliation of her not-quite-encounter with Mr. Ass Bella had spent almost every waking hour since dwelling on the surreal confession that Alice had made in the restaurant.

It had been surprisingly easy to believe, then, with Alice's serious face just across the table, but after further consideration the logical part of Bella's brain had taken control. Fortune telling was like mind reading, or telekinesis; great in a sci-fi movie or for a monster in a scary story, but absolutely ridiculous in real life. So, when she'd told a truncated version of the story to Jasper on the bus that morning, she hadn't been expecting his response.

He'd whistled long and low, and raised both his eyebrows so they disappeared under his blond fringe.

"So she's a little psychic? Well I'll be damned."

"You don't believe it do you?" Bella had asked.

Jasper had looked at her as if she'd just declared undying love for Stonewall Jackson.

"Has Alice ever given you any reason to doubt her?"

"No?"

Logical Bella had faded quickly under the weight of the memory of Alice's expression.

"Well then," Jasper had stood to let her pass as the bus approached her stop, and gestured briefly in the direction of Darren who was today wearing a jaunty fez, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Isabella. I'll see you tonight."

Just like that, she believed.

Heidi was still talking, though no longer specifically to Bella, and as much as Bella wanted to block her out some obnoxiously curious part of herself couldn't help but listen in.

"…you never see them with anyone else. It's really creepy and kind of pathetic, don't you think? I think…"

"I think Bella should stay the fuck away from Alice Cullen."

Bella looked up in shock.

For the first time since she'd met him, James seemed to be speaking nicely to her. Or about her, anyway. Sure, he was still foul-mouthed, and his opinion on Alice obviously hadn't changed, but the tone of his voice made it sound as though he was trying to do her a favour – trying to warn her that Alice was trouble. It was enough to shock Bella into answering him back.

"Why? What makes you say that?"

"Trust me. Too much time spent with that girl and you'll wish you'd never been born."

He made as if to smile, but it made him look like he was thinking about having Bella for lunch.

_Well, _Bella thought, _he seems to be aware of the effects her shopping trips have on me_.

James's faux smile dropped into a vicious scowl. He must have seen that Bella was rejecting his warning, because when he spoke again his voice was hard and cold as steel.

"Just remember. I warned you."

"James!" hissed Laurent, "That's enough, man."

"Yes. That's quite enough."

Even if Bella hadn't already been completely freaked out by James's melodramatics, she probably would still have fallen out of her chair, but as it stood that voice was the last straw. She scrambled to her feet and stared, probably quite rudely, at where the voice had come from. She wasn't the only one.

Marcus had spoken.

"Are you alright, Bella?"

He spoke again. He spoke _and _he knew her name. Bella nodded dumbly, feeling a little like she imagined Luke Skywalker had on meeting Yoda for the first time.

"Good."

Marcus cast his watery eyes over each of his employee's incredulous faces, lingering on James a little longer than the others, before closing his eyes and returning to his semi-comatose state.

He didn't speak again that day, and, luckily, neither did James.

* * *

Bella hung back for a few minutes once her shift was over, giving the others time to get out of the building so that she could leave in peace. As she headed, blissfully alone, down to the lobby she found herself dwelling on James's even-odder-than-usual behaviour. Her previous theory, that he disliked Alice purely for her bright and chirpy nature, seemed to have been disproven. On the contrary, James seemed to believe that Alice was dangerous in some way, but all Bella could imagine coming under threat from Alice were credit card limits.

There were still quite a few people scattered about the reception area as Bella entered, including, to her dismay, James. He was canoodling with Victoria in a frankly inappropriate manner. Bella could actually see tongue.

"Gross," she grumbled to herself.

Bella tore her eyes from their display to concentrate on making her way across the slippery floor when her eyes landed on something ruffled; something that could almost be described as _bronze_.

_Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no._

She felt all the blood drain from her face, making her light-headed, before her embarrassment forced it back up there with such urgency that her heart actually skipped a beat.

He was here, in her office building, a folded up newspaper in his hands. He looked unhappy. He looked… right at her.

_Coward_.

Alice's accusation rang loudly in Bella's ears. How could she have thought that Alice was referring to anyone else when she, Bella, was the consummate coward?

_Smile_! Squealed her new-Bella consciousness, _make like a hot, available lady! HE'S LOOKING AT YOU!_

He was.

What new-Bella failed to realise was that he was looking at her like she'd grown a second head. With a moustache.

_Retreat! _Shrieked old-Bella, _Run away! You look like a stalker! _

_You _are _a stalker! _Crowed new-Bella, but it was too little too late. Old-Bella's flight response was too well honed, so she pan on her heal with every intention of making a break for the elevator.

She didn't get that far.

Everything seemed to occur in slow motion, events around her in glorious technicolour; the momentary flailing of her arms as her foot slipped from beneath her; the shine on Victoria's bright hair and the vindictive grin on James's face as they stopped dry-humping to watch her fall; the highly undignified slapping sound as ass hit marble.

Bella blinked.

For a moment there was a silence so perfect that she could have heard a pin drop, and then the sound rushed back in like a tidal wave. Somebody was asking if she was okay, someone else was calling her name, Victoria was laughing so hard she was turning blue.

_Fucking excellent_.

Bella could feel her face getting redder and redder. She couldn't stand up, that would just compound her humiliation, because she knew without a shadow of a doubt that if she did turn around she'd see him laughing just as hysterically as that falme-haired bitch, and then she wouldn't be able to resist the urge to just curl up and die on the spot.

"Bella!"

That voice was closer now, and clearer.

"Alice," she said. It felt like salvation.

"Why," asked Alice, with what Bella felt was a completely inappropriate twinkle in her eye, "do you spend so much time on the floor?"

"I think it's safe to say it's not for whatever lecherous reason you've come up with," Bella growled.

Alice wriggled her eyebrows and tugged Bella to her feet.

"You wish it were!"

"Actually," sighed Bella, brushing herself off, "I think you wish that more than I do."

Alice sighed one of her by now familiar pained dramatic sighs.

"So true. So sad."

She pulled Bella towards the exit. Mr. Ass was gone, thank god, and Bella felt a wave of intense gratitude to Alice – filthy mind and pushy nature notwithstanding – for distracting her from yet another self-inflicted humiliation. She had to fight the urge to turn around and stick her tounge out at a still hysterical Victoria, knowing that Alice would just encourage it and James realated drama would be sure to ensue, but she found it very difficult to stay embarrassed in Alice's presence. She was a little like Jasper is that way; maybe she should introduce them.

_Or maybe that would cause critical mass_.

"…so he said no worries, we could come over tonight. Bella? Bella are you listening?"

Bella shook herself. She was in the Porsche, though she didn't remember getting in it. Alice was glaring and tapping her nails on the dashboard.

"Uh, yes?" Bella tried.

"No," Alice huffed, "you are _such_ a shitty liar. I said a friend of mine has agreed to help find a car for you. He's got a dealership in Queen Anne, and," she revved the engine and grinned, "we're going now!"

"Oh." Bella let Alice's words sink in, "_Oh_. Alice, no, I'm sorry I can't. Not tonight."

"Why not?"

Alice was pouting and the sight was so pitiful that Bella just stared at her blankly for a moment before she remembered what the reason was.

"Firstly, I have no money for a car right now. I used all my savings for a deposit on the apartment, so I need to save up again before I can buy a car."

"Money shmoney," snapped Alice dismissively as she pulled out of the parking space.

"No! We're not all walking ATM's Alice! Plus, I promised Jasper I'd see him tonight."

Alice's hands jerked on the steering wheel and she turned to face Bella with an odd, sick look on her face.

"The road! Alice the road!"

Alice turned her head back to face the road, but her attention was obviously still on Bella. Or rather, Jasper.

"Who's Jasper?" she asked, but it sounded more like she was pleading.

"My bus buddy? You remember, the commuting confederate?"

"You never told me his name was Jasper," Alice accused.

Bella felt weirdly guilty.

"You never asked? Does it matter?"

Alice shrugged, but her face was still strained. Bella couldn't tell if she was about to laugh or sob.

"Not really," Alice said, and her voice gave nothing away, "he'll forgive you for missing tonight anyway."

"Sure about that are you?" grumbled Bella.

"Silly Bella," said Alice, and her face was clear and care-free again.

Bella smiled and finished the sentence for her:

"You know everything."

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"Oh, Alice. Seriously?"

Alice stood outside the dealership, arms spread wide as if she was presenting it to Bella as a game show prize. She looked inordinately proud of herself.

Bella was just overwhelmed.

She hadn't visited a lot of car dealerships in her life, but she was fairly sure there weren't too many that would make her feel _underdressed_. The building was all immaculate plate glass that caught the late afternoon rays, but it looked positively dull next to the cars.

_The cars_.

All sleek and elegant, buffed to a ridiculous shine and mostly with names and brands Bella had never even heard of. There was no way she could buy a car from here. There was no way she could buy a _hubcap_ from here.

Alice put her hands on her hips and tutted brusquely.

"You're doing that irritating negative thing again. Come on, come in and meet Em. He's a genius, he can source any car you want for any budget you set… more or less. He's waiting!"

Bella sloped along behind Alice, half annoyed and half impressed with her demands. Everything about this place screamed class; not for the first time in Alice's presence Bella felt very small and painfully poor.

"Alice I really don't think –"

She was cut off by a high pitched squeal from Alice who then completely disappeared from Bella's line of sight, leaving it filled with the lower half of a giant. The giant was swinging Alice around as if she was a small child, a broad smile on his ruddy cheeks. He was laughing, and Bella could feel the vibrations of it through the floor.

"Put me down!" Alice wailed through her laughter.

The giant tossed her about like a ragdoll.

"Not until you apologise to me for Saturday!"

"Oh come on, Em," Alice made a valiant attempt at looking impressive whilst dangling from her armpits four feet from the floor, "you know I had to give you that duff bet. I can't lie to Edward, he can always tell."

"Bullshit. You're a conniving little beast and you and your prick of a brother are conspiring against me."

He dropped Alice unceremoniously, but she still managed to land lightly on her feet.

"I don't know why you and Edward insist on the macho competitive crap, but I can tell you that you _both _need to leave me out of it,"she beamed up at him, making the difference in their heights even more obvious, "and then you'll both be winners. The wooden spoon's still a prize Em, you can tie for it."

The enormous man looked livid, but then his face cracked into a grin and his booming laughter rang out again.

"Alright, Small. I know better than to bet against you," for the first time he looked over and caught Bella's eye, "is this your buddy?"

"Oh yes!" Alice spun around clapping her hands, and pulled Bella towards him. Bella felt disconcertingly like a shiny new toy being shown off.

"Emmett, this is Bella, the girl I've been telling you about. Bella, this is Emmett McCarty. I've known him since I came to live with my parents; he went to school with my brother."

"Pleased to meet you," said Bella. She found she had to reach up to accept his proffered handshake.

Emmett McCarty wasn't just tall, he was huge. Bella didn't consider herself especially short, but he towered at least a foot over her five foot six form, and he was _broad_. Her mother would have called him imposing, to Bella, he was terrifying.

Or rather Bella would have found him frightening, but when he smiled his blue eyes crinkled under his fringe of dark curls and she found herself smiling up at him almost against her will, hypnotised by his faintly childlike dimples.

"It's nice to meet you, kid. The little one over there has been going on about you for months!"

"That's funny," said Bella, "because I've only known her a week."

Alice had the grace to look slightly contrite, but Emmett let out another bellow of laughter; Bella fought the urge to wince.

"Well that's Alice for you. Once she gets started on one of her projects –"

"_Cars_, Emmett! Bella needs a car!"

Alice interrupted with a squeal and a clap before Bella discovered exactly what an Alice project entailed, and Emmett put his arms around both of them and led them into the office he had come from, sticking his tongue out like an over-grown kid.

Bella's only required contribution to the following discussion was to tell Emmett her budget (zilch) and her most basic requirements (something difficult to destroy). After that she sat back and observed as Alice commented on upholstery and colour schemes whilst Emmett went on about horsepower and torque.

It was obvious that Alice and Emmett had known each other for years. They bickered comfortably, happy in each others company despite appearing to be polar opposites in many ways. Physically their differences were striking; Alice, so tiny, delicate and dainty, looked as though she could be crushed by just one of Emmett's hands, but it was the differences in their personalities that Bella really noticed. Alice seemed to spend most of their conversation – and apparently most of her life – on planet Alice, a delightful place full of limitless credit cards and concerns about car carpeting. Emmet was much more straightforward, speaking bluntly and honestly if he felt one of Alice's demands was way out of Bella's financial means. He did that often, and every time he earned a little bit more of Bella's eternal gratitude.

The two were clearly very fond of each other though, and Bella wondered what on earth Alice's brother could be like to bring straight-talking but childish Emmett and flighty, determined Alice together. She imagined get-togethers for the three of them must be rather loud, excitable affairs. If she were ever stuck in a room with them, she knew she'd have to drag Jasper along just so that his soothing philosophical nature would help to keep her sane.

"…best idea ever!" Alice squealed.

Bella cursed herself; this zoning out during other people's conversations habit of hers would have to stop.

Alice was bouncing in her seat, and Bella was learning through bitter experience that anything that got Alice that excited was likely to leave Bella herself very uncomfortable and probably significantly poorer.

"What?" Bella asked, but it fell on deaf ears.

"It'll be wild," Emmett's grin matched Alice's; they made a pretty forbidding duo, "it's about time we dragged Ed out into the real world again. And I know there's _gotta_ be some action somewhere…"

"Action? What sort of action? What's going on?"

Alice and Emmett turned to face her with the expressions of predators who had an easy lunch in their sights.

"Do I have a car?" asked Bella pathetically, kicking herself even harder for not following Alice's (because they _would_ be Alice's) plans before it was too late to cut them off.

Alice started to look very smug, but gestured to Emmett to answer Bella's question.

"Miss Swan," said Emmett, and he might have come across professionally if it hadn't been for his shit-eating grin, "I have every confidence that I will be able to find you the ride of your life."

He winked. Alice giggled.

"Oh for the love of – alright, I give in. What's the plan?"

"We're going out, Bella," said Alice, patting her hand soothingly, "it'll be good for you. You can get to know the city nightlife and stretch that new attitude a bit. Live a little!"

"With you two?" asked Bella with something akin to horror. She was hardly the nightclub sort, and she was _definitely_ not the tag-along-with-Alice-and-Emmett-to-a-place-full-of-booze sort.

"Amongst others," said Emmett, his voice still chirpy despite Bella's less than enthusiastic reaction, "several hundred others, in fact. We'll even drag Alice's social leper of a brother out."

His eyes narrowed.

"You have been to a club before, right?"

"Of course I've been to a club!" Bella snorted.

Emmett's grin faded, and he looked to Alice before staring at Bella in dismay.

"Wow, Small was right. You _are _a shitty liar."

Bella glared balefully at a falsely innocent looking Alice.

"Okay, so I've never been to a club. It's not exactly my scene, guys."

"How do you know if you've never been?" Emmett said. "You might like it."

Bella sighed. That logic hadn't worked on her when she was four and faced with a plate of sprouts, and it wasn't going to start working now.

"I'm pretty sure I won't, but why don't we just ask Alice? She seems to know what I want before I do."

Emmett straightened up in his seat and sent Alice a poorly concealed curious look. He looked like someone caught out when trying to keep a secret, and Bella was reminded of what he'd aid before about Alice's 'projects'.

Alice had the cheek to look offended.

"As a matter of fact, on this occasion I do. I can categorically guarantee that you won't regret it, Bella," she said, turning her nose up at Bella's dirty look.

"Thanks Alice, that's exactly what I wanted to hear," sneered Bella, "that gift of yours sure does come in handy. I'd hate to think what could befall me if I used my own mind for once."

Alice sniffed and crossed her arms; Bella had to fight the urge to hunt down the nearest broom.

"Lighten up Bella," Emmett spoke up before she could co-opt the contents of his cleaning supplies cupboard and use them against him. He slapped her between the shoulder-blades in what he felt was a friendly gesture. "You'll soon learn to just go with the flow around Alice."

Alice and Emmett must both have taken her winded grunt as her agreement, because the eerily familiar grins were soon back on both their faces, and Bella left the dealership with the strong feeling that she'd got herself into more than one awkward situation.

Alice seemed cheerful enough as she hummed along to the radio on the drive back to their apartment block, but it just served to make the sick feeling in the pit of Bella's stomach feel worse.

She'd never been to a nightclub because, yes, she'd never seen the appeal, but also because it just wasn't something that old-Bella would have dared to do. Jacob had preferred to stay home and watch a movie, or convince Bella to watch him as he worked on his car, and – much as it pained her to admit it – she'd never really had another friend to do things like drink irresponsibly and dance with strangers with. It wasn't that she was prudish or particularly sheltered; Bella just knew herself too well. She couldn't hold her liquor and she couldn't dance for toffee, and any night out for her would inevitable result in copious amounts of vomit, a close personal relationship with the sidewalk and, in all probability, a trip to the ER. People like Bella Swan were not made to go clubbing.

They were certainly not made to go clubbing with the likes of Alice Cullen and Emmett McCarty. Bella wondered how many times she would be sick on Alice's designer shoes before Alice decided she wasn't worth the trouble and dumped her for a more co-ordinated, out-going friend. The thought made tears prick at the back of her eyelids.

_She is going to get bored of you eventually, though, club or no club._

Alice pulled into her usual parking spot, noting Bella's unhappy expression with her suspicious gaze. Bella did try for a smile, and it seemed to work; the slightly glazed look in Alice's eyes cleared and her grin returned.

"How do you fancy coming in for a coffee? You've not seen my place yet!"

Bella shrugged, fears about what other un-Bella-like plans Alice could form outweighing her desire to keep her around for as long as possible.

"It'll be just like my apartment but with fancier furniture."

Alice's expression turned pleading. Bella, as was becoming a habit, capitulated.

"Sure, sure. I could use a coffee; it's been a long day."

"I'll bet," said Alice, and she danced away from the car and up the the building's entrance.

"You _would_."

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"Wow."

Bella had assumed that Alice's apartment would be exactly like hers, just with much more 'Vogue' and substantially less mess.

She hadn't imagined anything like this.

Every piece of furniture Alice owned looked like it had come from some incredibly expensive antique store, and chosen just so that no two pieces could possibly match. The look was eclectic but strangely beautiful, and it complimented the main theme of Alice's home rather well: everywhere Bella looked there were crystals, or plates of shiny materials. A dream catcher almost as large as Alice herself covered the French doors out to her balcony and her coffee table had a pack of tarot cards strewn haphazardly across its mirrored surface. Bella felt like she'd entered the caravan of a particularly well-to-do fortune teller, which, on further consideration, she supposed she had.

Alice put the kettle on to boil and then excused herself with some mumbled nonsense about shoes, leaving Bella to stand pointlessly in the middle of the living room. Somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of sitting on the sofa and possibly disrupting the karma of the universe by messing up Alice's cards, Bella distracted herself by examining Alice's bookcase.

She was relieved to see that she hadn't been completely off the mark with her assumptions: the entire top shelf was stuffed with dozens of back issues of high-end fashion magazines, but some of the other contents were a little surprising. There were tonnes of books on dream interpretation, the reading of runes and other very 'Alice-y' subjects, but hidden amongst them were some on self-help techniques and one on the civil war that Bella could have sworn she'd seen Jasper check back in to the library just a couple of days before.

Propped on top of the bookcase in a plain gold frame was a picture of a very beautiful young couple; the woman sat in a chair, her face a picture of loving kindness, a boy of about eleven or twelve sat cross-legged at her feet. The man stood beside her, beaming, a small, dark-haired child perched on his hip. The glass of the frame was smudged over the faces of both the children as if someone had run their fingers over it repeatedly and never bothered to clean it, but Bella could still see that the children's expressions didn't match the delighted faces of the adults. The little girl seemed gaunt and pale as if she'd been ill for some time, and the boy's face was more like a mask than a face at all.

_My adoptive parents_, Alice had said.

Bella repressed a shudder, and concentrated on the spine of a two-thousand and six issue of Vanity Fair. She was considering picking up one of the dream interpretation books and settling down with it when somebody spoke up from behind her.

"Alice quite enjoys playing witches and warlocks in her spare time."

Bella started. Alice didn't make a habit of referring to herself in the third person, and Alice wasn't a man.

She turned round.

That wasn't Alice.

It was _him_.

"_You_!" she gasped. She might have swayed dramatically on the spot, but luckily she realised what she was doing, and blushed furiously instead.

Mr. Ass wrinkled his brow in what might have been confusion, but looked more like displeasure.

"Yeah," his smooth voice drew the word out and made Bella's toes curl, "and it's, um, you."

Bella could feel her face burning, and all she could manage in reply was a sort of strangled squeak. He'd seen her, he'd borne witness to at least two Bella/floor interactions, and now he was standing in Alice's living room staring at her like she was a stalker. Oh god, he thought she was a stalker and now here she was in his sister's – because Mr. Ass would be Alice's brother, that was just the sort of luck that had Bella Swan written all over it – house. Like a stalker.

"This isn't what it looks like," Bella tried to say, but it came out as a sort of strangled mess.

"Right," said Mr. Alice's-brother-with-a-nice-ass, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets and took a step backwards and away from her.

Bella looked around frantically for an escape route. Where the hell was Alice? Did she often leave her friends to humiliate themselves in front of her gorgeous brother?

She swallowed thickly and tried to stop drooling long enough to form a sentence.

"Did- did Alice let you in? I don't, I mean, she came in with me… shoes, she said. I don't…"

Alice's brother looked at her like she was an idiot. Apparently she could only stop the drool escaping if she substituted it for verbal diarrhoea.

"I'm Bella," she said, and held out her hand for him to shake, hoping he wouldn't notice the way her fingers trembled. She held it out in mid-air for several uncomfortable moments, but he just stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets and avoided eye-contact. Bella lowered her hand and wiped her slightly sweaty hand on her skirt.

"O-kay," she said, her mortification giving way to a rising tide of annoyance.

She made to turn back to her perusal of the bookshelves and pray that Alice reappeared soon, when he spoke again.

"I know who you are."

His voice was no longer smooth, it sounded gritty and rarely used, and when his green eyes met hers she felt the shudder she'd repressed earlier run down her spine.

Ever line, every feature, of his beautiful face was as hard and cold as if he'd been carved from marble; it was the face of the little boy from the photograph. Before she could move or begin to reply, the front door had slammed and he was gone. He'd moved so quickly she'd barely registered the movement.

Another door creaked open, and then Alice was standing where he'd been just moments before, her hands clasped together and a little smirk playing about her lips.

"Didn't Edward want to stay for coffee?"

She went to refill the boiled dry kettle, explaining to Bella about her storage system that seemed to involve the dedication of her entire spare bedroom to her shoe collection, and Bella wanted to be interested, or bored, or to ream her out for abandoning he with her creepy-crazy-sexy brother, but there was only one thought running on repeat through Bella's mind.

Edward Cullen? Was an _asshole_.

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**Why is Edward being an ass? What does an Alice project entail? Who's stalking who in this crazy story? Find out next time on Counterpoint: Alice's POV chapter. *Cheesy Grin*.**


	6. Fragment

**A/N: In which Alice puts up with a lot. **

**Whoop! Not as long a wait this time, amiright? This chapter is different in that it looks at the events of the story so far through Alice's eyes. It probably reads quite confusingly, but read on! It's all foreshadowing, baby.**

**Sections in italics are Alice's visions. I chose to make her visions work slightly differently than in canon, but only slightly. That will become clearer too as things progress. Needless to say there's no need to review saying 'OMG Alice's visions don't work like that you fool'. There's method to my madness, I swear.**

**Disclaimer: So not mine. Profit? Don't make me laugh!  
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**Chapter Six - Fragment**

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**And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far  
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**Ancestral voices prophesying war!**

**- Samuel Taylor Coleridge – Kubla Khan; A Vision in a Dream: A Fragment**

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_**September 2008 (Six months earlier)**_

"No fucking way!"

"Yes fucking way! Come on, man, you owe me this one."

Edward scowled across the coffee table at Emmett, who was sat on the edge of the sofa, arms folded, reminding Alice of a neighbourhood tom cat trying to win a fight by making himself look big.

"In what possible way shape or form do I _owe_ you one, Emmett?"

Edward leaned closer; Emmett had lost the ability to intimidate him by eighth grade, so he tried a different tack, throwing his arms out in defeat and almost knocking Alice's favourite malachite crystal smashing to the floor in the process.

"Watch it!" Alice called from her perch on the kitchen counter. "Mess with the crystal balls and I'll have to break out the cloak and incense and _really _fuck you up."

Emmett smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, Small. Maybe if you told your brother that being my wingman would bring him some _mystical happiness_ shit he'd…"

Alice snorted.

"He'd laugh in my face."

"No," Edward continued to glare at Emmett, "I'd laugh in _his _face. Your wingman? Who do you think you're kidding Maverick? Do you think I've got nothing better to do than hold the beers whilst you dry hump every piece of skirt in a ten mile radius?"

Emmett boomed with laughter.

"Eddie-Eddie-Edward. I don't _dry _hump _anything_."

Edward grunted something that sounded like 'everything' but Emmett blanked him, instead turning to Alice and wriggling his eyebrows.

"_Does_ he have anything better to do, Alice? 'Cause I sure as hell can't think of anything."

Alice giggled; Edward groaned and laid his head on his arms.

"Go ahead, look. Trust me, whatever you see I can guarantee it's too pressing to be neglected for syphilis watch."

"Hey!" Emmett cried.

Alice rolled her eyes, reached for a scrying mirror, and relaxed.

It wasn't often that Edward actually asked her to scry from him, even jokingly. The easy belief of their childhood had been eroded by cynicism and concern, but even if he did think it was a party trick he _had _asked. Alice didn't need any more encouragement than that.

Emmett was watching with wide eyes; Alice was ninety percent sure that he was just hoping she'd humour him. She gazed into the mirror and waved her fingers over it dramatically.

Emmett giggled.

"I see…" she began in her best fairground gypsy voice, "I see a _beautiful woman_…"

Edward groaned, and Emmett whooped with excitement.

"She's having you on," Edward moaned, but Emmett just hollered over the top of him.

"Come on! Hey Alice, she'd going home with me right? Can't have the ladies with a boy when they could have a real man!"

There was a strangled growl from Edward, followed by the sound of a scuffle and breaking glass. Some corner of Alice's mind noted that she'd have to buy a new coffee table, but it was small, insignificant.

Every atom of her being was drawn to the mirror in her hands. The lines and imperfections in its surface swam in her vision, forming beckoning hands before fading into indistinct shapes; a lock of hair here; the door to an unknown room there.

"Alice?"

It sounded familiar, that word. Should she know it?

"Alice!"

It rang in her ears, echoing away as the dark fog crept over her eyes.

And then she was gone.

* * *

_Strangely, once the darkness took over completely everything seemed much clearer._

I'm Alice Cullen_, she thought, and she heard it as if she'd shouted it from the roof-tops. If there were roof-tops, of course, in this wherever. _

_Which there were; because she wanted them: there were advantages to being master of your own sub-conscious, Alice supposed, and she smirked at the thought._

_She shook herself. She was here for something, to see something, and the quicker she found out what, the quicker she could wake up._

"_Alice!"_

_She turned. That voice had been with her all her life. Before Esme and Carlisle, before Edward, back in her very darkest days that voice had called to her as if he knew her._

_As though she knew him._

"_Jasper?"_

_Then he was in front of her, around her, everywhere just like he always was and just as he always had he flitted past her like a shadow, wraith-like, just a smear of skin, a flash of blue, the angle of an elbow._

_In twenty-four years she'd never seen him clearly. Maybe she wasn't as in control of this place as she liked to think._

"_You need to know this, Alice. Watch. You need to know."_

"_What-?" she began, but he was gone, and she was falling._

_She was dizzy, sick, unbearably hot, and visions span in front of her eyes so quickly she couldn't begin to make sense of them, but Jasper had told her to what, so she did._

_Some were innocuous; a pile of books lying on a library table, the sound of wooden heels on a tiled floor, the sheen of a red apple._

_Others were even pleasant; the sound of faintly familiar laughter, the small of baking in her Mom's kitchen, Edward's long-lost crooked smile._

_But then there were the others._

_A sapling snapped in two, a terrible guttural roar, a blonde girl lying face down as blood ran from her mutilated body, and the suffocating, agonising heat that never faded._

_And then, as the spinning slowed, a scene that played out before her eyes. There was a pretty, dark-haired girl who stood with lights shining from behind her. She was wearing a shockingly ugly white dress, and at her bare feet knelt… Edward._

"Alice!"

_Not Jasper this time, then. A voice from outside, calling her back._

Who are you_? She thought, and the girl lifted her eyes from Edward to meet Alice's. She stayed silent._

_The image flickered out of focus, and Alice knew she was running out of time. In desperation she did something she'd never had to do in this place before, she called out loud._

"_Who are you!"_

_The girl jolted in surprise and offered a small, shy smile, and even though her lips didn't appear to move Alice heard her answer as if it had echoed from the heavens._

_Bella._

* * *

Alice woke up on her sofa to find Edward with his fingers on her wrist and a guilty looking Emmett holding a glass of water precariously over her face. They were both watching her warily.

"I'm alright," she gasped, struggling upright and waving Emmett away with her free hand, "I'm fine. Just one of my moments - a dream thing - emergency over."

"Don't people generally dream at night?" asked Emmett, edging his way carefully around the remains of Alice's coffee table.

"Not Alice," said Edward.

"Not me," agreed Alice, swinging her feet to the ground and leaning over to retrieve her notepad and a pen from the shards of glass on the floor, "and don't try and distract me from the mess you two made. It took me months to choose that table."

"Jesus, Alice. You just passed out and had some crazy vision and you're concerned about the furniture?"

Edward dropped her hand and shuffled further down the sofa, his arms folded and his face a picture of disgust.

Alice pouted.

"It was a very nice table, Edward."

Edward grumbled under his breath, but Emmett leant forward from his seat opposite the remains of the table, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Was that one then? A proper vision?"

Alice nodded, her attention on scribbling everything she could remember into her notepad. Emmett sat back with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Thought so, especially when you started shouting. I've never seen you do that before, it was cool."

"It wasn't _cool_, Emmett," spat Edward, "she could have hurt herself falling off the counter, and unexplained fainting fits can be symptoms of – "

"Oh lighten up, Eddie. I caught her didn't I? Hey, Alice! Who's getting laid then? Can I put fifty bucks on it being anyone but Eddie?"

"Will you shut up? Nobody's getting laid and _stop_ fucking calling me Eddie!"

Emmett stuck his middle finger up and started blabbering in a sing-song voice:

"Eddie-Eddie-Eddie-Eddie. Eddykins. Eddie-Wedi. Oh! Edwina!"

Alice watched with alarm as the vein in Edward's forehead began rapidly pulsating.

"Wait, boys, stop it," Alice dropped her pen on her half a page of scrawled memories, "what was I saying?"

"Well," said Emmett, leaning forward again and obviously enjoying himself, "first you were just sort of moaning, and then you were yelling about being hot and calling for Edward…"

Alice glanced at Edward from the corner of her eye; he was paler than usual and staring intently at his fingernails.

"…and then you said 'who are you' and just as you woke up you said," Emmett lowered his voice, "_Bella_."

"Thanks for that dramatic reconstruction, Emmett. Have you ever considered a career on the stage?" Edward said.

Alice ignored him.

"There was a girl. Bella – I mean – that was the girl in the dream. One of them, anyway."

She shivered slightly and tried not to think about the faceless dying blonde. Edward was too busy staring at his own hands again to notice her discomfort, and Emmett was almost vibrating with excitement

"There was more than _one_? Fucking score! So, tell me, is she hot? Cute? Steaming? Where do I meet her? I mean them… wait, is she a twin?" Emmett clapped his hands with joy, "Please, feel free to give me the details!"

Edward snapped out of his pensive state long enough to throw a cushion at Emmett's head.

"The lengths you will go to to stroke your enormous ego are horrifying," he said, "do you think I want my baby sister privy to the sordid goings on in your bedroom?"

Emmett grinned.

"I don't need a bedroom. I have a perfectly good jeep. And hallway. And table. And let me tell you, it ain't my enormous _ego_ that they're going to be concerned about."

"You're insatiable, Emmett, I know," Alice interrupted before Emmett could insinuate any more places in his and Edward's apartment where he'd… taken his former conquests, "but in this instance you're going to have to reign in that raw animal magnetism. As far as I can see, she's Edward's."

It took twenty minutes for Emmett's laughter to subside.

* * *

_**Six months later.**_

_It wasn't the first time she'd been here like this._

_She could feel the eyes of the phantom women on the back of her neck, and the tightening of her skin as she returned their false smiles. She was looking for something, floating through a room, reaching out in desperation for something she couldn't even imagine._

_This world was ethereal, blank, a place of mists and mystery that she wondered through blindly. No, solid now, there was a hand on her back that burnt like fire, and the voice in her ear was swallowed by the sound of her own screams._

"Alice? Alice?"

She sat bolt upright, breathing heavily, the five of cups still clutched in her sticky palm.

"Sorry, I must have dozed off."

Alice smiled weakly up at her brother and began scrabbling about down the back of her sofa cushions for her notebook and a pen.

"Here," Edward handed her a pen and the back of a cigarette packet from his own pocket. He was sat on the floor on one of the usurped cushions. "Been dreaming again?"

"I thought you'd quit?" She asked, tapping the end of the pen accusingly against the word 'Marlboro'.

"I did," Edward looked up at her and smirked, "now don't change the subject. What was it about this time?"

"You tell me," Alice groused as she scrawled every image she could remember onto the tiny piece of card, "I can't get a handle on this girl. It's like she doesn't want me to know."

"You know what I think," began Edward, but Alice cut him off with a groan.

"I _know_ what you think, only too well in fact. Why can't you just accept it for what it is?"

"I'm sat here talking about it, aren't I?"

"You're humouring me, Edward. I might be crazy, but I'm not stupid."

Alice threw her pen down and huffed in frustration. Her recent dreams of the blonde girl had becoming more and more vivid, to the point where now she was taking on the role of the girl herself, but she was still no closer to discovering how she was meant to prevent whatever dreadful fate the girl was facing or even the knowledge of who she was. The dreams were coming more and more often now too, which could only mean that they were important. This girl was important.

"You're not crazy, Alice," soothed Edward.

Alice scowled at him.

"Really? You've changed your tune."

Edward frowned, and picked up the discarded pen, twisting it through his fingers. He looked a little lost, and rather lonely, and Alice's heart bled for him momentarily until she remembered why she was having this argument with him in the first place.

Bella.

She'd been seeing Bella for months now, sometimes in visions that just appeared, sometimes she'd catch a glimpse of a wisp of brown hair when she was scrying, and then, recently and most strongly, in her dreams.

_The girl in the dreadful dress, the light reflecting on her hair like a halo, and the very familiar man who knelt at her feet and once, just once, whispered 'please'_.

"Bella."

Alice startled herself by speaking aloud. Edward twitched.

"What about her?" he asked, trying to sound casual. The pen span faster and faster in his hands.

Alice sighed.

"This," she gestured between her brother and herself, "this is what's about her."

Once, when she'd been much, much younger, she might have felt jealous or even angry at the thought of anybody else being a part of Edward's life. In the early days, when Carlisle's soft words and Esme's smiles had frightened her, Edward had been the one to sit with her and help her come to terms with the brightness of a world she barely understood.

They'd been each others everything in those early days, when they were two fucked up kids thrown together by fate. Then he'd run away, and left her, forcing her to learn to stand on her own two feet, and, frankly, Alice felt it was about time he learnt to do the same thing.

Plus, she was extremely irritated that he wouldn't just listen to her. What happened to 'Alice knows best' anyway?

"I know what you're thinking," Edward said, making his way to her kitchen and rifling through her fridge.

"What part?" Alice asked, "The part where I'm wondering why you won't listen to me when I've never steered you wrong before? Or the part where I want to know what's the matter with your apartment and your own groceries?"

Edward lifted a block of cheese triumphantly.

"Emmett was out on the town late last night, and you know I hate to witness the morning fallout. It's bad enough hearing it during the night. Plus, it's his week to go food shopping and I didn't fancy a Budweiser breakfast before a twelve hour shift."

Alice rolled her eyes.

"So you come round to ignore me, insult me, consume all my dairy products and avoid watching Emmett giving some poor girl the blow-off? You're the epitome of the perfect older brother, you know that?"

Edward sighed and stopped his sandwich making to learn towards her over the counter.

"I'm not ignoring or insulting you Alice. I just think, on this particular occasion, you might actually be wrong."

Alice crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"And what makes you think that, exactly?"

"Where do I start?" Edward turned away from her and went back to his sandwich, "It's been months since you first dreamt of this girl –"

"Of Bella," Alice interrupted.

"Alright, of this Bella, then, and nothings happened. I mean, what have I got to go on? Average height, average build, brown hair, brown eyes. Oh, and apparently horrible dress sense. Not exactly unique. And even if I did meet her on the street or something, we both know that relationships and me don't work."

"That's only because you refuse to try!"

Alice launched herself off the sofa and busied herself with yesterday's mall purchases, taking her irritation out on the unfortunate shoe boxes. Edward snorted from behind her, and Alice had to resist the urge to launch a box lid, Frisbee style, at his head.

"You know that's pretty rich coming from you, all things considered."

Alice grunted, organising her new shoes in order of heel height to avoid getting into another row with Edward about what he felt was her unhealthy obsession with Jasper, or as he called him, 'her imaginary friend.'

"At least I'll accept my destiny when it comes calling."

"Have you ever considered that maybe this is my destiny? I proved a long time ago… well… lets just say that if this Bella does exist, and even if she was interested, she's probably a hell of a lot better off without me."

Alice could hear him shuffling about behind her, and she knew as surely as if she were staring right at him that he'd be looking at his feet and willing her not to remember those terrible long months after he'd walked out on them; the months when she'd watched for his future only to wake up screaming.

Normally, she pretended she didn't know. It was easier than dealing with Edward's cloying guilt over what he'd put them through.

"You're an idiot," she said mildly, sitting back on her heels to study her shoe organizational handiwork, "I don't understand why you won't just accept that I'm always right."

Edward laughed, pulling her up and to him for a hug.

"I'll accept something, Alice – you have a major shoe fetish. Ten pairs? In a day's shopping? Don't you already have a room full of the things?"

Alice wriggled from his grasp with a disgusted look.

"When your whole life consists of possibility, and nightmares, and total freakishness you have to find comfort where you can. I just happen to find it in shoes."

She smiled her most beatific smile, but Edward just smirked.

"Your shoe collection is worth more than your apartment, Alice. That can't be right."

Alice sniffed haughtily.

"There is a recession on you know. My shopping is supporting the economy. If I keep this up, we won't _need_ a fiscal stimulus."

Edward snickered at that, and his laughter was so rare nowadays that Alice took the hint. She didn't mention Bella for the rest of the morning.

* * *

Alice was pretty pleased with her new coffee table. She ran a duster over its mirrored surface for what must have been the hundredth time in the past hour, and rearranged her tarot cards and notepad so they would always be within easy reach when she was sat on her preferred end of the sofa. When everything was organised to her satisfaction she stepped back with a happy little sigh.

Edward and Emmett might be irritating, occasionally obnoxious, and terminal food thieves, but they outdid themselves when it came to this table, even if it had taken six months to be built to Alice's personal specifications since most furniture store coffee tables, even the high end ones, didn't also work as a scrying mirror for lazy psychics who wished to read the future from the comfort of their own sofa.

Alice turned to peer out of her window and down to the street below. All day she'd been feeling on edge, adrenaline was making her nervy and twitchy, but she'd yet to have a vision, or even an actual real world event occur, to explain it.

Somebody was yelling out in the corridor, and she could hear a chorus of banging sounds echoing down from one of the apartments down to her right. She'd seen a moving van outside the block earlier; new tenants often brought a bit of drama and excitement to the place and, by the sounds of it, these ones were likely to bring the cops round too.

Alice wandered over to her front door and peered through the spy hole. She could see several of her other neighbours already out and apparently enjoying the show the new people were putting on, but she hesitated briefly before joining them.

Just because her sub-conscious mind was always poking its metaphorical nose into other people's business didn't mean that she was incapable of giving people privacy out in the real world. However, she was really, _really_ bored and twitchy, and if everybody else was watching they'd probably never even notice she was there.

She stepped out into the corridor and peered around her rather bulky next door neighbour, Mr. Greenham, to see the source of the commotion. At first all she could see was a large broom, still partially wrapped in cellophane, that was repeatedly swiping at a very tall, very cowed looking Native American man. She couldn't see the person wielding the weapon, but she figured they must be the new tenant, since the broom appeared to be coming from the apartment two doors down from her own that had been empty for six months or so.

Alice was about to squeeze past Mr. Greenham for a better look when the broom, or rather, she supposed, the person holding it, spoke.

"I don't love you!"

In that moment, Alice's whole world seemed to freeze, and then spin on its axis so that nothing was quite the same. She gasped, and Mr. Greenham stepped back to give her a better view of the action, but she didn't need it. She knew that voice almost as well as her own now, it was engrained into her.

The broom waving maniac, the new tenant, the girl was definitely _did not_ love that man, was Bella.

She was here, and Alice's project could finally begin in earnest. She ran back to her apartment and settled in for a night of, hopefully helpful, visions.

Edward really should have known better than to doubt her.

* * *

By Monday evening, Alice was fairly pleased with herself.

Most of what she'd discovered last night had been vague or pointless; a side effect of trying to force a vision on a particular subject. However, with the help of repeated visions of the Seattle Times building and her own connections she'd managed to track Bella Swan down to the junior copy-editor's suite.

She'd also found that Bella – or whoever had packed Bella's belongings – had been either pitifully poor at it or woefully distracted thanks to a vision that seemed to suggest that there were saucepans packed in with bathroom necessities. Alice wasn't yet sure exactly what her sub-conscious expected her to do with that information.

All told, though, Alice was happy.

Bella had been just as pretty and shy as Alice had thought she would be, and, even more importantly, her dress sense hadn't appeared to be as bad as Alice had feared.

Alice had dropped onto her sofa and was running her hands over her deck of tarot cards, debating idly with herself as to whether the rest of Bella's wardrobe was extra horrible or whether the dress might just be symbolic of something, when the vision hit her with the force of a wrecking ball:

_Bella stood before her, her head tilted at an unnatural angle, and it finally dawned on Alice that she wasn't wearing a dress, ugly or not, at all._

_It was a shroud._

Alice fought down a rising tide of nausea, gripping the arm of the sofa with one hand to steady herself against the sudden onslaught of dizziness, and using the other to flick feverishly through her notebook.

There must be some clue that she'd missed somewhere, some loop-hole to help her prevent that last vision becoming a reality. She didn't _think_ she'd ever seen Bella dead before, but she'd been so preoccupied with her visions of the blonde girl's violent demise that he hadn't considered anything else too deeply for quite some time.

The sound of her front door being thrown open shocked her out of her panic long enough for her to look up and see Edward, flushed and beaming, barrelling into the room.

Alice hadn't thought it was possible for her heart to sink any lower, but she was proven wrong.

"I saw her!"

He was gasping for breath, and Alice swallowed heavily. He was about to confirm what she'd been telling him for months, she knew it, and if he'd walked in ten minutes earlier she'd have been apoplectic with joy. Now, though? Not so much.

"I was getting a coffee, and she waltzes in with some blond guy! Don't suppose you know who he's meant to be? Anyway, I don't think she saw me, but Alice, God, she's just like you said. She's gorgeous, and she sounds smart, and witty, and she was wearing the ugliest fucking coat you ever saw."

Edward's eyes were shining, and there was a pink tinge to his cheeks that Alice hadn't seen on him for years. He was looking at her expectantly – probably waiting for her patented 'Alice-told-you-so' song and dance number – and she hated to disappoint him, but her insides felt like they'd been put through a blender and her mind was running through possibilities at a hundred miles an hour. It was an effort for her to manage a smile and enough false enthusiasm to answer him.

"That's great, really good. I met her too, today. She's a copy editor on my paper. I took the horoscopes in to her."

Her attempt at 'excited' sounded flat even to her own ears, so she wasn't really surprised by Edward's frown.

"What's wrong?"

Alice could already see the joy of a few minutes before seeping out of him, the same joy that she'd spent years hoping to see return, and she couldn't bring herself to bring him down.

"Nothing! So, do you want the scoop?"

And when Edward left, and she went to stick a note to Bella's door to warn her of her saucepans' unusual resting place, it took all her considerable willpower not to add a postscript:

P.S. Please, please, prove me wrong on this one.

* * *

"Are you ever going to get the guts up to speak to the girl, or are you planning on just following her around Seattle till she maces you?"

Alice and Edward were sat on their parents' lawn, watching the pleasure boats cruising on Lake Washington, continuing the argument that had started the moment Alice had called him after dropping Bella off from their shopping trip.

"I'm not going to get maced. I'm not stalking her, Alice."

Alice didn't need psychic powers to see that he was uncomfortable with her line of questioning; he was refusing to meet her eyes and his hands were reflexively clenching into the grass at his sides.

"So you just happen to turn up wherever she's going to be? Don't think I didn't notice your little stunt in the parking lot yesterday. If you hadn't been my brother, and if I didn't know you aren't half as creepy as you currently appear, I'd have maced you myself."

"What little stunt?" Edward asked, looking impressively innocent for someone who was guilty as sin, "Can't a guy park his car nowadays without being accused of harassment?"

Alice smirked.

"Any other guy, maybe. But you? You're _definitely_ a stalker."

Edward's face flushed and he began picking at the blades of grass.

"That's rich, coming from you. You make out like I'm creeping about and watching her sleep and shit when you're the one with the poor girls whole life planned out for her."

"What's left of it," sighed Alice under her breath.

She hadn't had another vision of Bella dead and had managed, during the previous day's shopping trip, to do a pretty decent job of convincing herself that that particular vision had been symbolic of Bella's own desire to recreate herself for her new life in the city. She was beginning to doubt that now though, and it must have shown on her face because Edward was now watching her, his expression troubled.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Alice?"

Alice shook her head, but couldn't make herself look at him.

"Is it about that blond guy?" Edward tried, "Because you should tell me. I'm not prepared to make a fool of myself over a girl who's already taken."

"I don't know anything about him," said Alice honestly, "All I know is that she's meant to be with you."

"Poor girl," sighed Edward, but there was the hint of a smile in his voice, "can't see how I'm much of a catch for her."

"Yeah," agreed Alice, "you're ugly _and_ poor. However will she cope?"

"It's nice to know you have such a high opinion of your brother, Alice."

Esme Cullen's musical voice made them both jump. Alice looked chagrined, but Edward grinned.

"Yeah, you tell her Mom. She's always putting me down." He wiped at a fake tear. "It's giving me a complex."

Alice stuck her tongue out at him; Esme just tutted.

"Really Edward, I'm sure your masculine ego is big and strong enough to take the teasing of your baby sister. It's good practice for you, anyway. What's this I heard about a _girl_?"

Edward groaned, and then it was Alice's turn to laugh. The guilt settled back to her stomach; everybody was happy. She could keep it that way for today, at least.

* * *

"I know you read about that in a spy novel when you were twelve, but in this situation it just isn't going to work."

Alice stood in the lobby of the Seattle Times building, arms folded, in front of her brother, who was sat on one of the benches that ran along the walls, peering at passersby over the top of a newspaper.

"And why not?" he asked, lowering the paper to his lap and raising one eyebrow in a challenge.

"Because," Alice gestured at the paper, "that paper's three days old, and Bella knows that. She checked it for commas."

"Alright," Edward laughed, "you win. I'm a useless spy. Did you come here for any other reason that to insult my espionage skills?"

Edward's laughter stirred the guilt that had been sat in Alice's stomach for almost a week. He was her brother, if not by blood then in all the ways that mattered, and it physically hurt her to keep something like this from him.

The words were out before she'd even realised she was going to speak them.

"I think Bella's in trouble."

Edward seemed to snap to attention. All humour left his eyes and all his concentration was on Alice's next words.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, only to see the image of Bella's broken neck as clearly as if it had been tattooed on her eyelids.

"What kind of trouble?"

Alice could hear the paper crinkling in his hands, and screwed her eyes shut tighter against the expression she could imagine on his face.

"I think something's going to happen, or someone's going to hurt her, I don't know. I only saw it once, but..."

"You saw that I was going to hurt her."

Edward's voice was flat and cold, and caused Alice's eyes to fly open in shock.

"No! No-no-no. You wouldn't, I know that – "

"You don't know me."

His face was blank like a mask. Alice fought the urge to shake him.

"Oh no, Edward. Not that again." Alice grabbed one of his hands with both her small ones. "You're a good man. You save lives, it's what you do. What happened back then…"

Edward looked right into her eyes, and, just for a moment, the mask slipped.

He looked terrified.

"What happened back then still happened, Alice. I won't let it happen to her."

Alice opened her mouth to reply, but before she could the vision was playing out in her mind's eye.

_Bella tripping… The laughter…_

"She's coming," she said, smoothing Edward's newspaper out for him, "be.."

She scoured her mind for an appropriate word. Edward stared at her, bewildered.

"Be Edward," she said decisively and swiftly hid herself behind the closest pillar, preparing to rescue Bella from another inglorious pratfall.

She was really starting to believe that this particular project might be more trouble than she could have ever anticipated.

* * *

**Confused yet? You will be!**

**Next chapter: Alice meets Jasper, Jasper plays RISK, Emmett gets down. Oh, and Edward and Bella might just manage a civil conversation!**

**You want it? Review it! It really does help me write quicker.**


	7. Fate

**A/N: In which fate plays its game.**

**I had to split this chapter in order to do drunk!Bella justice! Enjoy, and thank you for all the reviews on last chapter, they are all brilliant and I appreciate every one more than you can imagine!**

**Also, for the record it's practically impossible to play RISK on your own, but try telling Jasper that. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. I do have several reels of burgundy ribbon though. Lucky me! You will recognise certain lines from Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer, like the characters, I don't lay claim to them.**

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**Chapter Seven – Fate**

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**Waiting on some beautiful boy **

**To save you from your old ways**

**You play forgiveness**

**Watch him now**

**Here he comes.**

**When You Were Young - The Killers  
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"So let me get this right. The gorgeous man you've been semi-stalking since you arrived here is not only your little psychic buddy's brother, but also a raging dickhead?"

Bella rested her chin on her hands and nodded glumly. On the other side of the library table Jasper stretched his long arms over his head and cracked his knuckles.

"I don't know what to say, Bella. You often find the best looking ones have the worst attitudes."

"You're alright," Bella grumbled.

"Thanks for the compliment darlin', but I think you know the sort I mean."

"Yeah," Bella lifted her head and leant back in her chair, "I suppose I do."

Wasn't that the reason, after all, that she'd studiously avoided all men that she wasn't directly related to or that she'd known since pre-school? She wasn't _surprised_ to find that Edward Cullen was an asshole, but she couldn't help feeling oddly disappointed, which was ridiculous, really, because even if he had been a nice guy, there was no way on Earth he could have been interested in _her_.

Jasper watched her sympathetically.

"Do you want me to punch him?"

Bella snorted at the thought of _Jasper_, calm, intellectual, philosophical Jasper doing anything as violent and unnecessary as hitting a stranger.

Jasper smiled encouragingly.

"What, you don't think I could?"

"It's not that. I just don't think Alice would be very impressed with me if I start sanctioning random beatings of her brother."

Jasper shrugged his agreement, and returned his attention to the board on the table. Bella leant forward for a better look.

She didn't consider herself to be an expert on board games, but she was prepared to bet a large percentage of her paycheque on the fact that you were meant to play them _with_ someone. Jasper didn't seem to think so. He played himself, just rolling dice and occasionally moving some of his dozens of toy soldiers about the board.

"Is it even possible to play a game like that on your own?"

Jasper spoke lowly, glaring at the little men as if he could use them by sheer force of will.

"Hold on a second, Bella. General Lee is about to take Brazil."

He moved a handful of pieces a couple of inches, and sat back with a satisfied smile.

"See? It's all about strategy."

Bella blinked.

"So you're playing a war strategy game, against yourself, and you're pretending the plastic pieces are the confederate army?"

"Yup."

His grin grew even wider. He looked so pleased with himself that Bella couldn't help her answering smile.

"You know what Jazz, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, you are the strangest person I've ever met."

"Maybe," Jasper acknowledged, and then he turned his attention back to his game.

Bella went back to staring into space, just as she had been for most of the evening.

For some reason she hadn't been able to get Edward Cullen out of her head long enough to settle down with a book, which just made her even more irritated with him than she had been to start with.

Stupid, rude Adonis. Who gave him permission to get inside her head like that?

She was giving her surroundings another cursory look when something dark caught her attention outside the window. Something small with short, dark hair was bouncing up and down on the other side of the glass as if they were on a trampoline. Bella lifted her hand half-heartedly, and the bouncer waved enthusiastically back.

It wasn't that she'd been purposefully avoiding Alice since meeting her brother, but she hadn't exactly been seeking her out either, but seeing her shining face as she left the window to head inside had made a weight lift from Bella's shoulders that she hadn't even realised she'd been carrying. As crazy and fraternally unlucky as Alice might be, Bella had missed her.

"Jasper," Bella called, trying to prepare him for the onslaught of hurricane Alice, but when he looked up his eyes immediately fixed on something over Bella's right shoulder. He looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. When Bella turned to look at her, Alice had something of the same look.

"Scratch what I said before, Jazz. _This_ is the strangest person I've ever met. Jasper, this is Alice Cullen. Alice, meet Jasper Whitlock."

Jasper stood up quickly, the scrape of his chair deafening in the loaded silence. Alice stepped forward.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," she said, and offered him her hand.

Jasper blinked once, then twice, and stepped forward to take her hand, ducking his head before lifting her hand to his lips.

"I'm sorry ma'am."

Two bright points of colour rose in Alice's cheeks.

Bella had never felt more awkward in her life.

She looked between them, her mouth hanging open as if she'd forgotten how to close it. Temporarily, she had. She tried to clear her throat but it came out as a shocked little squeak. Neither Jasper nor Alice paid her the slightest bit of attention, continuing to stare into each others eyes, matching soppy grins on both their faces.

New-Bella felt a little bit nauseous. She considered that she might be turning into a bit of a bitch, or maybe discovering that Mr. Ass was a dick had embittered that once romantic soul of hers. Either way, she couldn't leave Jasper and Alice to standing in the middle of a public library making eyes at each other all day; it was uncouth.

She tried to think of a distraction, but was missing the trunk of high-end designer outfits to tempt Alice away from her fixation with Jasper's face. Luckily, it was easier to get to Jasper.

One by one Bella picked up his pieces from the board and dropped them to the floor, punctuating each fall with an 'oops' or a 'gosh how terribly clumsy of me'.

Jasper didn't look away from Alice, but Bella watched his fingers twitch in time with each drop.

Just a matter of time…She reached for one of the figures stationed on Brazil.

Jasper snapped.

He broke his gaze from Alice's, and raised an eyebrow at Bella.

Bella gulped.

She'd never felt anything but comfortable in Jasper's company since she'd got to know him, but the 'you'd better have a fucking good reason for interrupting this Swan' look was very intimidating.

"So," she said weakly, "you guys… have met. That's cool…"

Jasper lifted his other eyebrow. Alice continued adoringly at his profile.

"Do you want some privacy? From me, I mean. And I could set up a sort of roadblock for you at the end of this stack against any other unwary library patrons?"

Jasper's lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, but then Alice spoke up and he was totally enraptured with her again.

"We're going out on Friday night. Will you be there?"

"Anywhere," Jasper breathed.

Bella felt like she might be going into shock. Not only had Alice actually asked a question rather than just presuming the answer as she usually did, but Jasper, calm, assertive, logical Jasper had turned into a lump of mush not unsuited to a dodgy romance novel within a minute of laying eyes on Alice. That girl certainly had talent.

"Excellent!" Alice jumped on the spot and clapped her hands, "Bella, I'll speak to you later. Jasper," she stood on her tip-toes, pulled his face down towards her so that she could kiss his cheek, and pressed a scrap of paper into his hand, "call me."

She beamed at him then turned and skipped out of the library, but not before giving Bella a surreptitious wink.

Bella gaped after her. It was almost like Alice had planned it, but then, knowing Alice, she probably had.

Sneaky little sprite.

Jasper stood there gormlessly, one hand touching his cheek and the other clutching the paper that Alice had scribbled her phone number on.

"Bella?" His voice was a little cracked, "She's… I mean, my god. I just… What just happened here?"

Bella put her hand on his shoulder. He was looked at the door Alice had left through like he wanted to bolt through it after her.

"I don't know, Jazz, but I get the feeling we've just entered the Twilight Zone."

* * *

At seven pm sharp on Friday evening Bella opened the door to her worst nightmare.

"Oh no, no way. You're not getting anywhere near me with that crap."

Alice rolled her eyes and barged past, half obscured by the large box she was carrying. To Bella's paranoid eyes the box looked as if it contained an entire beauty salon's worth of products.

Alice dropped the box on the kitchen counter and turned to Bella with her hands on her hips.

"I am taking time out of my Jasper preparations to make you stunning, Isabella. The least you can do is suffer in silence."

"While you torture me? Not likely, Cullen."

Bella reached into the box and pulled out a metal tool that looked like it belonged in a medieval dungeon. Alice stared at her, aghast.

"Those are eyelash curlers, Bella. Where've you been living? Under the world's least girly rock?"

"I wish."

Alice groaned, picked up the box and ushered Bella towards the bedroom.

"Tell me you're not going to be difficult about the clothes, at least?"

Bella winced. Alice had suggested, strongly, that Bella should pick an outfit from the things they – or rather Alice – had brought on their trip, which Bella had valiantly tried to do. She knew that her usual uniform of suit or jeans was inappropriate for a club, the problem was that she had no idea what _was_ appropriate.

Alice surveyed the clothes strewn disaster of Bella's room in stony silence.

"I need your help?" Bella ventured.

Alice turned to her with a smile and a cluck of her tongue.

"Oh honey, do you ever." she gestured Bella over to sit on the room's one chair, her back to the mirror, "Now just relax and leave it to Alice."

She started on the hair.

Bella tried relaxing and ignoring the heat of the irons and the sharp tug of the comb in Alice's hands, but the slightly maniacal look on Alice's face made it difficult. In fact, it made her feel like Frankenstein's monster; she was half expecting Alice to spin her round to face the mirror, shrieking 'It's Alive!'

Bella wished Emmett had given her a bit more warning about Alice's projects.

Alice put the hair irons down and began rifling through the box.

"Are we meeting Emmett there?"

"Oh no," Alice answered, grabbing a kohl pencil and lifting Bella's eyelid, "he and Edward will be coming by to pick us up."

Bella choked, getting a pencil in her eye for her trouble.

"Keep still," Alice murmured, but Bella couldn't. She felt like her whole body was shaking in time with her rapidly increasing heartrate.

"Edward's coming out?" she squeaked, feeling like an idiot, but unable to stop herself.

Why should she care, after all? He didn't care much for her, and she shouldn't bother with people like him. Alice 'mmm'ed her assent, running damp brushes over Bella's eyelids.

"We aren't gong in your car?" Bella mentally kicked herself; she sounded like a child.

Alice stopped working on the make-up and looked askance at her.

"I drive a bright yellow Porsche 911 turbo. It's not subtle, and it's not the sort of car you leave outside a nightclub all night. Edward's car looks like it could be owned by some soccer mom. Much better we risk his than mine." Alice changed to another brush, her face expressionless, "Do you have a problem with my brother?"

Bella felt her face flush furiously; Alice put the brush down again.

"You won't be needed blusher, that's for sure. Go on, spill it."

Alice didn't look angry, as Bella had feared she might. In fact, she looked like she'd been expecting it."

Annoying, all-knowing psychic.

"He was kind of rude when we met before."

Kind of was an understatement of course, but Bella when to upset Alice when her face was at her mercy.

"Don't worry about Edward, he's just shy," Alice cocked her head to the side and scrunched up her nose, "actually, Emmett calls him socially inept. I think that sounds better." Alice pointed a lip brush right between Bella's eyes. "Now keep quiet and pout."

She wouldn't let Bella turn to see her reflection as she rummaged through the pile of discarded clothing on the bed.

"Artists don't show half finished paintings," she said, putting some items to one side, "you're just going to have to be patient."

"Does that make me an oil painting?"

"You will be!"

Alice held up a pair of skinny black jeans and an oversized blue t-shirt, cut to fall off her shoulders. It wasn't quite as bad as Bella had feared it might be, and she took them from Alice without a fight. While she was wriggling herself into the jeans, Alice was glowering at her shoe collection, obviously displeased with the proliferation of sneakers and flats.

"I despair, Bella. Luckily, I've got just the pair back home. Get dressed and," Alice waved her hands towards Bella's face, "don't touch."

Alice skipped off, and Bella took the opportunity to check her reflection. She hoped Alice hadn't gone too overboard; the line between plain Jane and desperate clown was a fine one, and for some reason – that was certainly not Edward Cullen – Bella felt that she really needed to walk that line tonight. She looked in the mirror and breathed a sigh of relief: Alice had given her smoky eyes and defined her lips a little, but apart from that she looked like herself, just better.

"Bella!"

Bella gave her reflection a quick smile before sticking her head out into the corridor. Alice stood in the apartment doorway, swinging a pair of strappy, high and extremely lethal looking heels from her finger.

"Have these off me quick," she said, waving the shoes at Bella, "the boys will be here in fifteen minutes and I haven't even put my face on yet."

Bella recoiled from the shoes as if they were radioactive.

"You're kidding? Alice, I can't wear those. I'll break a leg, or my neck, or both. You'll have to carry me about all night."

"I haven't got the time to argue with you, or the upper body strength to lug you about. If worst comes to worst we'll just have to find you a nice man to lean on."

She flung the shoes down the corridor and danced off back to her own front door, but not before Bella had used both her middle fingers to make Alice fully aware of her opinion on the subject.

She managed to get the shoes on despite the complicated arrangement of straps and ties that held them together, and was more than a little surprised to find that they actually fitted. Still, Alice keeping a selection of shoes two sizes too large for her wasn't beyond the realms of possibility. With Alice very little was. Bella found that by clinging to the wall she could manage to take three steps at a time before she lost her balance, and had to flail around to regain it. She felt a little like she imagined a baby giraffe would when presented with the concept of standing for the first time.

She made two trips up and down her hallway that way before she heard a light knock at the half-open door that she had her back too.

"Just come on in, Alice! You do any other time!"

"Alice isn't ready yet."

Bella cringed. Edward Cullen. Of course. Because there was nobody she wanted to see her clinging to the wall and unable to stand less than him, he had to appear. She was beginning to wonder what terrible acts she must have committed in a past life to deserve this kind of karma.

She turned very slowly to face him, painfully aware that if she fell now she'd just curl up and die on the spot. He was leaning against the doorframe wearing dark jeans and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a half smile, as if he weren't sure what her reaction to him would be. Bella's reaction was to make the conscious effort not to dribble. Okay, he was a bastard and she was still angry with him, but by god he was beautiful.

"Hi," he said.

Bella nodded. It was all she could manage when trying to keep her balance and her saliva glands in check at the same time. His half smile faded, and he shuffled uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry about the other night, I was in a dreadful mood. I'm Edward Cullen, Alice's brother."

He smiled again, and held out his hand for her to take. That left Bella in an awkward situation; if she let go of the wall to step towards him, she'd fall on her face. If she didn't, he'd think she was still angry with him. Which she was, obviously. He couldn't just turn up looking pretty, smile, and have her automatic forgiveness, right?

"I'm sorry," she managed, "I can't…"

She gestured lamely to her feet. Edward's face fell.

"I understand. I was totally out of order, you're well within your rights to think I'm a…"

"Oh no!" Bella cried, "It's not that, it's these shoes. Alice forced me into them, but I'm terminally clumsy."

"I see," Edward said.

His eyes scanned down from her face to her feet, and Bella couldn't help the blush that spread over her.

Edward smiled again, and this time it seemed to light up his whole face.

"You look lovely, by the way. That colour suits you."

Bella squeaked a thank you.

"Right! Come on, we're late! Jasper will be waiting!"

Alice bounced into view beside Edward wearing a tiny silky black dress with one shoulder, and with her short hair ruffled into casual disarray. Emmett was right behind her, dressed casually in jeans with a suit jacket and a faded t-shirt. He winked at Bella.

"Yeah, can't keep lover boy waiting can we kid?"

"No indeed," said Bella, finding it easier to talk when she wasn't concentrating on Edward, "how rude of us to take so long getting ready."

"Ugh, shut up," groaned Alice, "I was doing you a favour. And you look beautiful, doesn't she Edward?"

"I already told her so," said Edward. Bella's heart thumped in double time.

"Oh good," said Alice, and she seemed to puff her chest out with pride, "Now you big strong men help Bella out. Those shoes are an acquired skill."

Bella managed to deal with the mortification that came from having Edward and Emmett each grab one of her arms and put it through their own only because she knew that any attempt to walk out under her own steam would end in disaster. What she hadn't been prepared to deal with was the shock of electricity that seemed to generate wherever her body touched Edward's. Either he had a severe build-up of static electricity, or she had a major problem to deal with.

As Emmett swung her up into his arms to cart her down the stairs, she knew that this night wasn't going to go well. She just hoped she could live with the humiliation.


	8. Inhibit

**A/N: In which… well.**

**I don't condone binge whisky drinking, not even for Edward. Drink responsibly guys! *Hiccups***

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Ms Meyer would probably not be very impressed with my plans for them either. Also, the line taken almost entirely from 'Twilight' remains hers. I'm just borrowing it.  
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**Chapter Eight - Inhibit**

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**Baby, did you forget to take your meds?**

**Meds - Placebo**

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Bella tried to act cool as they approached the doors to Alice's choice of club, but that was easier said than done when you were being partially dragged along by two very attractive men both of whom had much longer legs than you which meant that you had to half jog to keep up with them. She was half tempted just to give in and let Emmett swing her over her shoulder in a fireman's lift just as he'd been threatening to do since he'd unceremoniously dumped her in the front passenger seat of Edward's silver Volvo. He obviously thought he was hilarious, and if he'd been ruthlessly teasing anybody else Bella might have agreed with him, but things had gone too far now. She didn't need any help from Emmett to embarrass herself.

She'd spent the journey to downtown Seattle gazing resolutely out the window, afraid to look at Edward's profile in case she lost momentary control of her swallowing reflex and drooled all over his leather seats, and unwilling to join in Emmett's long-winded rant about Jasper.

"We haven't even met him, Small. What if he's a rapist? Or a murderer? Or a murdering rapist?"

Alice had growled and slapped Emmett on his enormous arm. Bella turned to check if it was about to turn violent in the back seat, but he hadn't even flinched. For a man like Emmett being slapped by Alice must be like an elephant being bitten by a gnat.

"He's not a murdering rapist. He's not like that at all, trust me. You should know me better than that Emmett. Plus, he's Bella's friend, so he can't be bad."

As if being Bella's friend meant you had to be an all round good guy.

Bella had decided that the occupants of the car were enough proof that her taste in friends should never be held to account for any reason whatsoever. Sanity certainly wasn't a prerequisite, at least.

Edward had stayed mostly silent on the drive. Occasionally he'd make a noncommittal sort of noise in answer to one of Alice's many comments on the evening's events or his choice of outfit, but Bella had noticed that he stayed completely out of any argument about Jasper and Alice's strange first meeting and this subsequent date. It struck her as slightly odd that Alice's own brother wasn't worried that she seemed to have fallen, romance-novel style, for a guy she'd met for all of three minutes.

All in all, Bella had decided, Edward was an odd sort of guy.

He could be a gentleman though, as Bella discovered when, ten yards from the door to the club, Emmett spotted Alice leaping into Jasper's arms and decided to charge off after her, leaving Bella clinging precariously to Edward's elbow. His very strong, manly elbow that still seemed to be radiating that odd electricity she'd noticed in the apartment. Perfect.

She managed to balance herself so that she didn't look like she'd already had several glasses too many in front of the bouncers, but decided to keep a grip on Edward just in case. The two of them approached Alice, Jasper, and a puce-faced Emmett with some trepidation. Bella felt as though she were heading into some kind of wild-west stand-off. Jasper certainly looked the part in his cowboy boots and casual shirt. He was watching Emmett warily as the much bigger man glared daggers at him. Alice seemed totally unperturbed by the display of machismo around her; she was back to staring adoringly at Jasper's face just like she had at the library.

"Hello," said Jasper, "I'm Jasper Whitlock."

Emmett rumbled. Bella half expected his head to lift off and lava to flow from his neck.

Jasper just smiled.

"Should we step in?" Bella whispered.

It was the first full sentence she'd managed to address to Edward, but she thought Jasper's possible evisceration should take priority over her own crippling shyness.

Edward shrugged, which unbalanced Bella slightly and forced her to hold tighter onto his arm. When she looked up at him, he was smiling.

"Emmett's ninety percent bluster. I'm pretty sure he won't actually kill the guy. He wouldn't want to upset Alice, you see."

Bella looked from Emmett, who looked like he wanted to shine a light in Jasper's face and interrogate him as to his intentions, and Edward who was watching with nothing more than mild interest.

"Isn't this sort of the wrong way round? I mean, you're Alice's brother, shouldn't you be giving Jasper hell right now and Emmett should be holding you back?"

Bella blushed furiously at herself for having the nerve to question anything Edward did, painfully aware that if he decided to go back to asshole mode and pull away from her she'd collapse into a useless, high-heeled heap at his feet. Luckily, Edward laughed.

"Sure, that's the way it would normally be, but I know what Alice is like," he looked down at Bella and she swayed under the force of his smile, "Alice knows best. Don't try and fight it."

Bella hummed in what could have been agreement. She couldn't be sure though, she was too busy mentally cataloguing every line of his face. God, she was pathetic. She snapped her gaze away and back to where Emmett was continuing to eyeball Jasper.

Alice seemed to have finished mooning over Jasper now, and was looking at Emmett with a face like thunder, evidently ready to throw herself into a defence of Jasper at any second. Jasper stood tall though, he never broke eye contact with Emmett no matter how threatening the larger man made his glare. Bella wasn't sure whether the feeling swelling in her chest was pride or terror. Jasper might like reading about soldiers, but there was no doubt in Bella's mind that Emmett would crush him if it came to an actual fight.

"You're wearing boots," growled Emmett, and Bella had to hold back a shiver of fear and he wasn't even _looking_ at her, "are you… you know… a cowboy?"

Bella felt rather than heard Edward groan next to her.

"What of it?" asked Jasper, and he seemed to stand a little straighter.

Bella was forcibly reminded of the dislike of 'Yankees' that he'd demonstrated that first day in the coffee shop. She really hoped they weren't going to have their own little battlefield re-enactment here on the sidewalk. They'd never get into the club then.

One of Emmett's eyes twitched. Alice narrowed her eyes at him and seemed to step ever so slightly further in front of Jasper. Bella reflexively clung tighter to Edward's elbow.

"You fuck with her, and I'll fuck you up, you understand me?" Emmett's voice was so low it was barely a grumble.

"If I fuck with her I can assure you I'll fuck myself up," answered Jasper, and the tension was broken by Emmett's booming laugh.

"You're alright kid," he said as he slapped Jasper on the shoulder.

Jasper staggered forward slightly. Alice rolled her eyes.

"If you're done with the cock comparisons gentlemen, I'd like to go for a dance and I think Bella needs a drink if she's going to relax in those shoes."

Emmett cupped himself with one hand and went running into the club, other arm held aloft, crying "I'll give you something worth comparing ladies!"

Jasper watched him go, his face twisted in confusion masking faint horror.

"Is he always like this?"

Edward sighed, and pulled Bella closer into his side as he went to shake Jasper's hand. Bella tried to resist the urge to sniff him, and failed. He smelt delicious. It didn't help her dribble issue.

"Sadly, yes. I'm Edward, by the way. Alice's brother. Contrary to what you may have thought, that wasn't our father you just met. He does own a handgun though, watch out."

Jasper took Edward's proffered hand with a smile.

"No threats of bodily harm from you then?"

Edward grinned crookedly at Alice, who was still pouting after Emmett.

"Oh no, I think Alice can handle herself."

"Ugh, come on." Alice grabbed Jasper by the hand and led the way through the doors, "I don't want to spend my whole night on the sidewalk, and someone needs to keep an eye on Emmett. Last time we let him loose on his own he lost three thousand dollars and four days worth of memories."

Bella raised her eyebrows at Edward, but he just laughed.

"Come on, Isabella Swan. You haven't seen anything yet."

* * *

Oh.

God.

This was not going as well as she had anticipated, and considering that she'd anticipated a horrible disaster that was _really_ saying something.

Alice had taken Jasper by the hand and dragged him off to dance within minutes of the four of them making their way inside. Alice was obviously not the sort of girl who needed a drop of dutch courage before strutting her stuff on a crowded dance floor, and Jasper certainly seemed to be establishing himself as the sort of guy who'd follow her pretty much anywhere if she so much as crooked a finger at him. Emmett had also disappeared into the mass of writhing bodies that filled most of the club. The last time Bella had seen him he'd been holding a bottle of lager over his head and dancing with several scantily clad women at once. He'd certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.

Bella wished she could say the same for herself.

On the bright side she'd managed to prop herself up against the bar and knock back two shots of Jack Daniel's in quick succession, which meant that she could stay upright, and that the whiskey was numbing her feet. However, one problem remained, and it was enough to force her to buy yet another whisky.

Edward had yet to leave her side.

Damn Alice, damn Alice and her random shoe collection all the way to hell. If she'd just allowed Bella to wear a pair of decent flats then she wouldn't be propped up against the bar in some heaving club with a man who surely must be wondering what he'd done wrong to be stuck babysitting the cripple all night.

"You can go dance, you know," Bella said, concentrating on the way her drink swirled in the glass rather than allowing herself to be distracted by his face, "I'll be fine here with Jack, we're old friends."

"That's alright," said Edward, "I'm rather grateful for the excuse to be honest. Normally Emmett would have me as his wingman by now, distracting the ladies that aren't up to his standards."

Bella knocked back the whisky and groaned.

"Well, you're sort of doing that now, aren't you?"

She felt the heat rise in her face. Where had _that_ come from? Maybe she should slow down on the shots.

Edward looked down at her, grimacing.

"Trust me on this, Bella. You are so far above Emmett's usual standards that you're practically in the stratosphere. You're not… you're not interested in him, are you?"

There was something in his voice Bella couldn't quite pinpoint. She blamed it on whisky induced fuzziness.

"No. No, definitely not. He's not really my type. Too… you know… rah."

She made a claw gesture with her hands to emphasise the growling sound. Edward laughed.

"Yeah, yeah he is that. He means well though, and he's got a heart of gold."

Bella caught sight of Emmett then. Two fake-baked blondes were rubbing themselves against him. He looked faintly bored, and took a swing of his beer.

"Why does he go for that sort then?" Bella wasn't sure whether she should be grateful to the alcohol for loosening her tongue in front of Edward, or whether she should gag herself to prevent further embarrassment. Edward didn't seem to mind her rambling though. He took a swing from his own drink, and creased his brow as he considered his reply.

"I think I know why, but it's a long, sad story. I'll tell you it another day maybe. I'm concentrating on pleasant things right now."

He looked down at her and his eyes shone. Bella felt suddenly warm and tingly, as if she was one of the pleasant things he'd been referring too. She soon shook that thought off though; that was certainly a side effect of the drinks.

She caught sight of Alice and Jasper as the crowd parted. Neither of them looked to be paying much attention to the music. They were swaying together, not taking their eyes off each other for a moment, until Alice began fanning herself and took Jasper by the hand to lead him towards Bella and the bar.

"He follows her about like he's on a string," she said, "it's almost like she's bewitched him."

"Oh," Edward smiled, "I'm absolutely positive she has."

There was something in his tone that flustered Bella enough to want another drink.

"Are you having a good time?" Alice asked as she leant up against the bar, face flushed and eyes glowing.

Bella raised her glass in salute. She didn't answer; she didn't even know what her answer would be. Jasper beamed at her as if he'd undergone some kind of selective brain surgery. She couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he'd been more unhappy than he'd let on before he met Alice. He'd never seemed especially maudlin or downbeat to her, but previous misery seemed to be the only explanation for the joy that currently seemed to be rolling off him in waves.

Jasper went to flag down a bartender to get Alice and him their first drinks of the evening, which worried Bella slightly as she was sure that Edward was on his third or fourth and she wasn't a hundred percent sure of her own consumption. Alice, somewhat surprisingly, didn't follow after him, choosing instead to lean up against Edward and sigh.

"Having a nice time are you?" he asked her, and Bella was struck again by how blasé he was being, "You certainly seem to have worked your magic there. The poor guy's practically ready to castrate himself if you give the word."

Alice pulled a sour face.

"Well that would go against my express wish, I can assure you."

Edward shuddered. Alice elbowed him in the stomach and winked at Bella.

"So," Alice said, as quietly as the music would allow, "What do you think?"

"I think he was my friend before you were, Alice, so it's not really my place to comment. I'm glad you're happy though."

_And I'm oddly disturbed by this whole situation._

Bella thought it might be safer not to add that part out loud. Alice looked displeased enough with her answer as it was.

"He seems a nice guy, and he's buying me a drink. I can't fault that."

Edward's answer was more to her liking and she beamed again; her enthusiasm rekindled.

"Oh I _know_. It's like he literally sweats charisma!"

"Can't he see a doctor for that?" asked Edward, straight-faced, as Jasper returned with the drinks. Alice gave him a kick in the shin.

Before full on sibling warfare could break out in front of an awkward Bella and blissfully unaware Jasper Emmett came staggering off the dance floor; his clothes creased and his hair mussed up.

"My god," he gasped, reaching for a bottle, "they're insatiable out there. Like a pack of wolves."

"Ah," said Alice knowingly, "the patented McCarty effect strikes again. See how shy, demure women become raging sex-fiends in his very presence."

Emmett puffed out his chest with pride. Jasper looked slightly shocked, but Edward just seemed resigned. This obviously wasn't a one-off occurance.

"All right, who've you got your eye on this time?"

Emmett's eyes grew wide. He reminded Bella of a child on Christmas morning.

"Edward. Twins. Actual _twins_. And they are totally game!"

Alice forcibly slapped herself on the forehead.

Bella wrinkled her nose.

"You know, where I come from, I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

Emmett scoffed at her.

"Where's that? Prudeistan? Lighten up, Bella. Just 'cause I haven't used my skills on you…"

Luckily, Bella found that the alcohol numbed the sting that would usually have followed a comment like that. Alice and Edward were both shaking their heads very slowly in Emmett's direction.

He was still talking.

"…not that I wouldn't, otherwise, but that would make shit awkward and I hate all that kind of crap. Plus, no offence kid, but the whole virgin thing is kinda out of my comfort zone so…"

"Whoa," Bella wondered if her ears were playing tricks on her or if she had actually entered a nightmare world where her sex life was up for public discussion, "who told you that?"

Emmett looked her up and down, and shrugged.

"Well, it's kind of obvious, what with the whole wound tighter than a nun's bun thing."

"I'm not tightly wound! And I'm not a virgin!" Bella cried, and immediately flung her hands over her mouth.

Why the fuck had she shouted that? What the hell was wrong with her?

Jasper and Alice both cringed. Edward looked at her with an expression of pity twisted with horror.

"I mean," Bella stammered, unable to just stop talking even though she wanted the ground to open and swallow her whole, "I have had sex. I mean, who cares how long ago it was? It doesn't grow back! I've seen porn, too. And I read one of those harlequin things once. I _know_ sex. You can ask me anything!"

Why could she not shut up? Could she stab herself to death with a shoe before they stopped her? Maybe they'd just take pity and let her die.

Emmett patted her shoulder gently.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Edward's practically a monk, you guys can help each other out."

Bella was sure there could be no worse mortification than the way she was feeling at that moment.

"I think," said Alice, "that that's our cue to dance."

She dragged both Jasper and Emmett off with her. Bella could still see her berating Emmett as they were swallowed by the crowd.

To numb the horror, Bella finished his drink as well as her own. Edward stayed silent. She didn't dare raise her livid red face to look at him.

"So," said Edward, "what do you think of the music?"

To Bella it sounded like 'let's never speak of this again'. If it wasn't such a ridiculous idea she might have kissed him for changing the subject.

The music was loud, repetitive and starting to give Bella a headache.

"It's… not really my scene."

After all, she didn't want to offend him. This could be his favourite band or something.

"No, nor mine. I'll be honest with you, I'm really, _really_ glad Alice stuck you in those shoes tonight. I'd much rather prop up the bar with you than be dragged round the meat market with Emmett. This is the best night I've had in this place in years."

"Really?" Bella laughed. "You must despise it then; I'm hardly fascinating company."

"On the contrary," Edward turned serious, "I find you very fascinating indeed."

Bella's whisky-filled stomach made an uncomfortable flip.

"You don't know me," she squeaked, "I'm really not."

"I know Alice thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread; I know you work at the paper as a copy-editor; I know you moved here a month back from your hometown; I know you like to read, that you drink coffee, and that you regularly lose your footing on perfectly flat surfaces."

"Alright," Bella groused, "I'm starting to wonder if, considering you and Alice, there's anybody in your family who _isn't_ a stalker."

Edward grimaced.

"You cut me, Bella."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Bella bit her lip and looked up at him from under her lashes, suddenly feeling unaccountably brave, "after all, I don't know anything about you."

A shadow seemed to cross his expression.

"Maybe that's for the best."

"Oh, come on. Just a few juicy titbits?"

She actually sounded coy. Bella had never tried to be coy in her life. She flushed with embarrassment, but then Edward smiled. To her total shock, coy seemed to work.

"Well, lets see. I'm afraid I'm low on juicy bits. I'm twenty-seven, I'm an attending at the General, I live with the great oaf you've already met, I play the piano, this _is_ my real hair colour, and I'm adopted, but I guess Alice already told you that. Oh! And I'm a wicked baseball player."

"You play piano?" Bella wasn't sure why she hadn't thought that he'd do something like that. He _was_ the moody creative type.

"Sure," Edward shrugged, "when I was a kid I wanted to be a concert pianist. Weird dream, right? I could have done it though. I was accepted to Julliard, but I chose to go into medicine instead."

"_Why_?" Bella said, "You must be brilliant, I mean, Julliard don't take just anybody. Why didn't you go for it?"

_Shut up!_ Screamed the sober, old-Bella side of her brain. New, nosy Bella shushed it.

Edward was frowning again. He didn't look her in the eyes as he answered.

"Oh, you know. I didn't see myself as the starving artist type."

"Funny. You don't strike me as the mercenary type either."

"I'd hardly call medicine a mercenary profession, Bella."

His voice was frosty, and he moved slightly further away from her. Whether she was overcome with guilt or gumption Bella couldn't be sure, but she sidled back next to him and touched his arm.

"I know. I'm sorry. It was meant to be a joke."

Edward sighed.

"It's fine. Emmett and Alice are always going on about how I should be less sensitive."

He turned to her with the crooked grin she was really beginning to enjoy seeing.

"Not terribly manly is it?"

"You seem perfectly manly to me."

Bella actually gasped at her own words. Mr. Jack's liquor had obviously melted her verbal editing suite. Bizarrely though, instead of laughing in her face, Edward seemed rather pleased. Mind you, he'd had a few drinks too.

"Bella," he said, taking her hands. She found that her balance centres went even more on the fritz when he touched her. "this might be a really horrible idea, but will you dance with me?"

Physically, Bella froze in shock. Mentally, her head was hosting a celebration of fourth of July magnitude.

"You want to dance? Here? With me?"

"No, silly girl, I want to dance in Panama with Elle McPherson. Yes, I want to dance with you."

"To the terrible music?"

Edward nodded, determined. Bella had the feeling the particular situation was leading to a stand-off.

"But I'm dangerously clumsy and I'm wearing some sort of fetish stilts. Wouldn't you be safer dancing with one of them?"

She gestured in the direction of three attractive young women who were eyeing Edward from a few feet away. Edward didn't even turn to see who she was talking about.

"It's not my safety I'm concerned with, and anyway, if I'm going to hell…" he tugged lightly on her hands, "come on, please?"

"Well, alright then, but don't say you weren't warned."

"I can handle it," he said smirking, and pulled her bodily away from the support of the bar.

The next few seconds were a bit of a blur. Now thoroughly unable to hold herself up on the death-traps she had strapped to her feet, Bella half staggered and half fell into Edward's arms.

Maybe it was this sudden extra close proximity, but Bella felt suddenly lightheaded. She managed to focus on his face and smiled.

"You're very pretty," she said, because it was true.

Edward made to reply, but she covered his mouth with her hand.

"And you have lovely eyes. Are they real?"

Edward removed his hand gently and held it in one of his own; his other arm still wrapped around her waist. That was just as well, because Bella slipped and would have gone flying if he hadn't caught her. She was lying half back across his arm. It was rather nice.

"Yes they are. And guess what Bella?" Edward said, "you're dancing."

"I am? I am!"

She laughed wildly, and Edward watched her with a smile. The fuzziness was back though, and the room was spinning pretty intensely. Edward must be a very fast dancer.

"You're making me dizzy!" she complained "Slow down!"

Even swimming in and out of focus he looked confused.

Then the room wasn't the only thing swimming, and the gurgling in her stomach was disturbing enough to sober her up just slightly.

"Oh fuck."

* * *

It felt like she was drifting.

One moment she was sleeping the unstoppable, heavy sleep of the intoxicated, and the next she might surface briefly into a world too cold, bright and loud for her to want to stay.

"What was she drinking? Anti-freeze?"

"That… is messy."

Ugh. The voices were unhappy, and irritating. She managed to block them for a while and fall back into the pleasant nothingness of sleep, but they were soon back.

She was uncomfortable, and there was something hard and cold against her forehead. Somebody was rubbing her back, but it made her feel worse.

"Try and aim, Bella, please."

She tried to open her eyes, but it was just too much effort. The last time she surfaced she was somewhere warm and comfortable, and she felt something light and ticklish against her temple.

"Sweet dreams," said a voice, and they were.

That was the first night she dreamt of Edward Cullen.

* * *

**Oh Bella. You so drunk, honey. Just as well she can sleep it off all day tomorrow, right?**** Actually, I think Alice has other plans. **

**Is Edward going to be nice from now on? Is Bella ever going to recover from the shame? Will Emmett let her? Is Jasper aware that he's turned into a loved up muppet? Where is Rosalie, anyway? **

**The more you review, the quicker the answers get written!  
**


	9. Familiar

**A/N: In which the readers' 'where is insert major character here?' questions are answered, and Bella meets her complexes.**

**So, so sorry for the delay. I left my notebook on the train somewhere in the vicinity of Shrewsbury and lost all of this chapter, and all the notes and chapter plans I'd made for the story as a whole. This has been hellish to get back out of my head. I hope it doesn't disappoint. **

**Disclaimer: All characters herein are the property of Stephenie Meyer, I just get them drunk and make them dysfunctional. Sorries!**

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**Chapter Nine - Familiar**

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**Then the Tin soldier melted down into a lump, and when the servant-maid took **

**the ashes out next day, she found him in the shape of a little tin heart. But of the **

**dancer nothing remained but the tinsel rose, and that was burned as black as a **

**coal.**

**The Constant Tin Soldier – Hans Christian Andersen**

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Daylight: A punishment sent to torture those who consume their own body-weight in hard liquor.

Bella tried to move in order to throw her pillow over her eyes, but that set off a chain reaction that made her head feel as if it were about to burst.

What the hell had she drunk last night?

She managed to drag herself, squinting and unsteady, to the bathroom. The vision in the mirror made her wish she hadn't bothered getting out of bed.

She was a wreck.

All Alice's hard work with the mascara wand was smeared across her face, and her skin had a sickly green tinge that matched the way her stomach felt. And her _hair_! She looked like a terminally ill panda with a nest on its head.

Bella washed her face and brushed her teeth – her mouth tasted like something had died in it – and was just peeling off the clothes she'd slept in when the sound of the doorbell reverberated around her skull. There was only one person in Bella's world who would call round before twelve on a weekend.

Fuck Alice Cullen.

Bella wrapped herself in her dressing gown and staggered door, wincing as the movement jostled her poor aching brain.

"Go away!" she shouted as loudly as she could stand to, "Bella's dead! Come back in a month!"

"When the dead roam the Earth?" Alice called back, "Because I'll need an ETA on that. I don't have an outfit for a zombie apocalypse."

Bella threw open the door, scowling.

"For the record? I really don't like you right now."

"That's alright," said Alice, bounding in with a chipper expression and not a hair out of place, "I've foreseen that you'll forgive me."

A very sheepish looking Jasper sloped in after her. Bella pulled her dressing gown tighter around her and gave him her best 'we'll be talking about _this_ later' glare. Jasper shrugged. Alice stopped in the hallway and lowered her designer sunglasses to appraise Bella. She handed over one of the two take-away coffees she was carrying.

"Fucking hell, Bella, you look like shit."

"Tell me something I don't know," said Bella, sipping gratefully at the coffee and willing herself to keep it down.

"I imagine that includes most of the events of last night," said Jasper, sitting on the arm of Bella's sofa. She put her drink down and threw herself face down onto the cushions, groaning incoherently. Alice patted her on the head.

"I remember talking to Edward, and that I just kept drinking straights – I don't know why – and I sort of remember that Emmett was talking about some girls or something. It's all a horrible, whisky blurred dream after that."

She rolled over and looked miserably up at Alice, who was leaning over the back of the sofa.

"I ruined your night, didn't I? I'm so sorry Alice, Jasper."

Alice waved it off.

"Don't worry, _I _wasn't the one holding your hair back while you worshipped at the porcelain throne."

Bella looked at Jasper. He shook his head.

"Don't look at me. I'm not good with bodily fluids, they send me a bit… funny."

"So if it wasn't either of you, who carted me home and supervised my vomiting?"

Alice and Jasper exchanged a look.

"Well, Emmett dragged you outside after you decided it was naptime, and then, as far as we know, Edward brought you home."

Jasper sounded apologetic. Bella gaped blankly at him.

"Edward brought me home?"

"It would seem that way," said Alice, taking a casual drink of her coffee as if as though Bella's life wasn't falling apart in front of her, "we were hoping you could expand on that part for us."

Bella rolled over again and screamed into the sofa cushions.

"I'm guessing that means it didn't turnout too great?"

Bella lifted her head and scowled at Jasper.

"That would depend on your definition of well. If you think having a hot, rude, practical stranger holding back your hair while you chuck your guts up constitutes a successful end to an evening then I've got no complaints."

"It could have been worse?" offered Jasper.

"Sure. I could have vomited _on_ him."

Jasper and Alice shared another of their irritatingly knowing looks. Bella buried her head in the cushions again.

"Never mind, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"Nuh-huh, Swan," Alice grabbed her, sat her upright, and thrust the coffee back into her hands, "there's no time for that. I told Mom you and Jasper would be coming over this afternoon."

Bella spat expresso down her dressing gown.

"You what?"

"Well, I've been going on and on about you, and she wanted to meet you. Give you the seal of approval!"

Bella turned to Jasper. He wouldn't meet her eyes, and she made a mental note that if she was going into battle against Alice she was doing it without any support on that front.

"Alice," she said, trying to keep the bubbling hysteria out of her tone, "I feel like death and I look worse. If I meet your mother like this she'll think I'm some booze addled tramp you picked up from a park bench somewhere."

Alice sniffed dismissively.

"Rubbish. You look… oh okay, point taken. But my mom won't mind, and I promised her! Come on Bella, please?"

Alice pouted, even lowering her sunglasses again to unleash the full force of her puppy dog eyes. Bella grimaced. There had to be some antidote to that pout.

"Alright, alright. But don't blame me when Mommy won't let you play with the nasty drunk anymore. When do we leave?"

"Har de har," said Alice, "you leave as quickly as possible, I'm off now. I've got to take Edward to fetch his car first."

Bella closed her eyes and swallowed thickly. She remembered just enough of last night to dread that reunion.

"Hang on, if you're off now, how are Jasper and I going to get there? Where do they live anyway?"

"Oh, Jasper will drive you, he's got the address."

"You drive?" Bella turned on Jasper.

"Sure, I just prefer to commute on public transport. Less stress."

"Less _stress_?" hissed Bella, "Have you _met_ our bus driver?"

Alice huffed.

"Can you continue this on the way? And Bella, for the love of all that is holy, _please_ do something with your hair."

She kissed Jasper on the cheek, turned on her heel, and skipped out. Bella flipped the bird at her retreating back.

"I hope you know what you've got yourself into," she said darkly to Jasper as she staggered off towards her bedroom.

Jasper threw himself onto the sofa and sat back with his hands behind his head and a grin on his face.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Bells. I haven't got a fucking clue."

* * *

"Please tell me you're joking?"

Jasper shook his head.

"Well, I can see why you prefer public transport. It's not exactly inconspicuous is it?"

The General god-damn Lee.

Jasper drove a bright orange Dodge Charger emblazoned with the confederate flag. It was a perfect replica of a car from a defunct TV show.

"Do you actually have to jump through the windows or do the doors work on this model?"

"I have working doors, Bella," Jasper had the gall to speak to her as if she was the idiot when he was the one driving about in a prop, "my momma won it in competition. I told you she rides rodeo. They give out some odd prizes now and then."

"And your mom lives where?"

"Texas."

"And you didn't think of trading it in when you moved to _Washington_?"

Jasper rolled his eyes, opened the passenger door and gestured to Bella to get inside.

"It's a niche market, even in the south. Anyway, I prefer to think I drive it ironically."

Jasper jumped in behind the steering wheel, and Bella took stock of his outfit; wooden heeled cowboy boots, stonewashed denim, and a five o' clock shadow.

"Ironic," she said, "sure…"

Bella had never been a particularly good passenger. Her early years had been plagued by being driven about in one of her mother's many ancient 2CVs or Volkswagen Beetles, most of which had had appropriately mismatched and lurid paintjobs, and when, at the impressionable age of sixteen, she'd moved in full time with her Police Chief father she'd faced the unutterable horror of being ferried about in a cruiser.

She'd have embraced either of the transport options that had blighted her childhood if it meant she didn't have to be driven through the city in the General Lee.

"Will you relax please? You're making me twitchy, and I hate city driving at the best of times."

Bella gave Jasper a weak but apologetic smile.

"Sorry. I just prefer to be invisible as much as possible, and this is the least invisible car in the world."

"I don't know about that," sniffed Jasper, "In the Pacific north-west, maybe. Anyway, you should probably get used to the limelight. I think Alice is going to be forcing you into it as much as possible from now on."

Bella folded her arms and shrank lower in her seat.

"Yeah, well she'll have her work cut out on that one."

"Oh I don't know. Alice is pretty good at getting her own way."

Jasper was actually blushing, and Bella took the opportunity to change the subject and take some of the heat off of her.

"Is that so, Mr. Whitlock? Does that explain why you turned up on my doorstep with her at some ungodly hour this morning?"

Jasper blushed even harder and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

"It wasn't what it looked like."

"No?" Bella put on her best 'Southern Belle' voice, "Why, are you just not that type of girl?"

"Ha ha ha. It really wasn't like that though," Jasper put his foot down a little harder as they reached the freeway, "I was actually coming to check on you. You looked awful when you left last night. I just bumped into Al on your doorstep."

"Thanks," said Bella, only half sarcastically. She never expected people to come over out of concern for her. It was a slightly odd feeling.

Jasper turned and gave her a quick wink.

"And give me some credit, please. As if I'd expect that from Alice on a first date."

Even if Bella hadn't seen his dreamy expression, the tone of his voice would have been enough to clue her in to the fact he was back to daydreaming again.

"You really like her don't you?"

Jasper sighed.

"Do you think I'm mad?"

Bella shrugged. She didn't want to lie to Jasper, but he _was_ driving so this probably wasn't a very good time to mention that she thought him slightly unhinged.

"What can I tell you," he said, "it's like… the first time I saw her something just seized up inside me, and when I touched her hand… It was like I'd been broken my whole life and she fixed me. Like these… sparks."

He grimaced.

"God, I sound ridiculous."

"No! No…" Bella shook her head, her mind full of half formed images she couldn't quite remember, "I think it's wonderful."

Weirdly, she was telling the truth.

* * *

"Where are we going exactly?"

Bella had been mulling over the whys and wherefores of Jasper and Alice's relationship for some time and had been paying no real attention to their route, so she was faintly surprised to realise they were on the bridge halfway over Lake Washington.

Jasper, who had been happily bobbing along to some cheesy oldies station on the radio, glanced at her warily before returning his attention to the road.

"How much do you know about Alice's family?"

"Not a lot really. I know she and Edward are adopted, and that her parents are well off?"

"Alright," he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as if he was thinking hard about something, "and you were told that by Alice, so when she said that what do you think she actually meant?"

A wave of pure, sick dread engulfed Bella.

"Oh God. They're going to be like millionaires or something."

"No something about it. The Cullen's are Seattle royalty."

Bella swallowed heavily.

"So they live..?"

"In a lakefront house in Medina. I think Bill Gates and Alice's dad play golf together."

Jasper gave a little unconcerned wave. Perhaps he only ever dated the daughters of multi-millionaires, and the scuffed cowboy boots and kitsch car were just part of a cunning disguise.

In comparison, Bella didn't take it well at all.

"I'm going to be sick," she said matter of factly.

"Not again? All you've done for the past fourteen hours is regurgitate your stomach lining. Do you have a digestive problem?"

"Oh stop being so obnoxiously blasé! They're _millionaires_, Jazz, and you're a pathetically geeky military history obsessive who drives his mother's car and is trying to corrupt their daughter, and I'm some half-crippled lush of a nobody who spent last night blowing chunks all over their son."

"So what? Alice and Edward want to hang out with us, if their parents don't like that that's their issue."

Bella folded her arms and pouted. She knew it was childish of her, but she found that acting like she was in high school was helping to keep the panic at bay.

"Easy for you to say. Alice is crazy about you; even a blind asexual could see that. They'll probably present you with a spare key and her hand in marriage. All Edward's going to give me is his drying cleaning bill."

Jasper sighed, and grumbled something about betting on Alice.

They drove for a while longer, mostly in companionable silence interrupted occasionally by radio sing-a-longs. Eventually the highway became residential streets, and the houses became larger and further apart.

By the time Jasper slowed to a crawl Bella was already feeling incredibly out of place. She felt like she should be taking pictures and cooing over the wrought iron gates like any other tourist.

"This is the one," said Jasper as he turned down a long sweeping drive.

Bella took some comfort in the fact that even his voice wobbled slightly. She'd been struck completely dumb.

The house was huge, three storeys high with massive windows, and every blade of grass on the lawns was manicured to perfection. Lined up outside were four cars, Alice's Porsche and Edward's Volvo among them.

Bella felt an unexplainable pang of regret when she looked at his car. She put it down the fact that she had no idea what she was walking into with him. Nor did she have any idea why she cared so much.

Jasper pulled up next to a sleek looking sports car. Next to the Cullen's cars his Dodge looked like it belonged to the gardener.

Bella looked up at him and bit her lip.

"Do we have to do this?"

"Yep."

The quiver from before was still in his voice. Bella sighed deeply.

"I've never felt underdressed for a driveway before."

Jasper wiped his palms on his jeans, and Bella picked at thread in the cuff of her Dartmouth sweater. She was surprised when Jasper put his finger under her chin and turned her face so she had to meet his eyes.

"Stop it. I know what you're thinking, and money's not everything. You have just as much right to be here as they do. Alice certainly thinks you're worth it."

He winked at her, and she gave him a small smile back.

She couldn't help the hollow ache in her chest as she got out of the car though, and although she was disgusted with herself for thinking it, she found herself wishing that Edward thought she was worthy too. It was his fault for being so damned pretty.

Bella slid from the car and eyed the house with trepidation. Jasper was hovering one hand over the bonnet of the low slung sports car.

"Oh my God. An Aston."

"A what?"

She should get used to this, there were bound to be hundreds of things in this house that she'd never heard of. Their wallpaper probably cost more than her father's house.

"An Aston Martin. Oh. Look at it!" he had the same sense of awe in his voice as he did when he was talking about Alice.

Bella peered round for a better look.

"I've seen that in a movie or something," she said.

Jasper stared at her, aghast.

"It's an Aston Martin?"

"Yes, I heard that the first time. Care to elaborate?"

He rolled his eyes so hard Bella could almost hear them.

"As in, Bond, James Bond?"

"Alice's Dad has James Bond's car?"

"Yeah, so it would seem."

Bella thought that Jasper looked a little less composed than usual, but she wasn't at all surprised.

James Bond's car. Of course. Why would she expect anything less?

Jasper looked longingly at the car one last time, then took a deep shuddering breath and reached for Bella's hand.

"Come on, Missy, before the neighbours call the cops on us for loitering."

Bella smiled weakly and let him pull her up to the front door. Jasper went to knock, and it opened with a creak at the slightest pressure of his hand.

"Hmmm. Curious."

"Very hammer horror."

"Well I suppose there's not much need to lock your door around here. Bill Gates is hardly likely to come in and nab your flat screen, is he?"

"Ugh," Bella shuddered lightly before stepping inside, "please stop reminding me how out of my depth I am."

"This is hardly a barrel of laughs for me either," Jasper hissed, but he patted her shoulder comfortingly as he followed her inside all the same.

The hallway was wide and light, with a tiled floor and a sweeping staircase leading off it to their right. It was also perfectly silent. Bella and Jasper exchanged glances.

"I'm not alone in finding this creepy, right?" whispered Bella, "Do you think they know we're here? Should we go back out and knock?"

Jasper seemed to think about it for a moment, but then shook his head sharply.

"No, come on. Carpe diem, Bella."

He strode towards the double doors at the end of the hallway, the sound of his wooden boots echoing off the tiled floors.

"Alice?" he called.

The doors were flung open to reveal Alice; as if she'd been waiting for a suitable moment to make her appearance. She probably had: the Cullens did seem to have a flair for the dramatic.

"Hey," she breathed. Her face was all lit up like a child's at Christmas.

"Hey yourself," Jasper smiled just as soppily back.

Bella gagged. They'd only been apart for an hour for Christ's sake. Suddenly spending the day with a couple of millionaires and a man who'd watched her vomit didn't seem too bad compared with the prospect of watching Jane and Bingley over there cooing at each other all day.

Alice snapped her attention to Bella, the ghost of a smirk forming. Bella narrowed her eyes and shifted from one foot to another.

Maybe mind reading wasn't totally out of Alice's remit after all.

"Well come in!" Alice beckoned, "don't just hang out in the hallway all day making the place look untidy."

She looked Bella up and down as she spoke, her lips curling as she took in the jeans-and-college-sweater combo. Bella fought the urge to stick her tongue out at her.

The room she led them to left Bella momentarily speechless. It was open plan with a wall of floor to ceiling windows, and so large that it took her a few moments of openly gawking at her surroundings before she realised that there were other people in the room.

At the far end three people sat in chairs arranged around a large fireplace, one of whom had very distinctive bronze hair. Alice grabbed both Bella and Jasper and dragged them over to the group, who rose to meet them.

Bella wished fervently for a conveniently timed chasm to open up and swallow her.

"Mom, Dad, this is Bella," Alice pushed her forward and dropped her hand, and Bella waved shyly at them, carful to keep her eyes anywhere but on Edward.

Alice's father was trim and surprisingly young, probably only in his mid-forties, and much too obviously young to be biological father to two grown children. Bella was quickly grateful for that when he reached out a hand for her to shake and smiled he was so handsome she very nearly swooned.

She'd never have lived that down if he'd been as old as Charlie.

"It's lovely to meet you, Bella," said Alice's dad, and instead of shaking her hand he lifted it to his lips. Bella only semi-successfully concealed her squeal.

"It's great to meet you too, Mr. Cullen. This is a lovely…" Bella wracked her brain for a word big enough, "…place… you've got here."

"Oh, I can't take the credit for that, that's all my wife's work. And please, call me Carlisle."

He cracked another stunning smile; Bella blushed furiously.

Alice's mother stepped forward, smiling beatifically. Bella wondered if there was something in the water that would explain why they were all so stunning. Maybe they were part of some sort of cult. A really _hot_ cult.

"Oh Bella darling. It's so wonderful that you're here!"

Mrs Cullen pulled her to her chest for a bone-crushing hug. For such a petite little thing, she was incredibly strong. She was also oddly enthusiastic, not that Bella minded, but being greeted like she was the answer to their prayers did come as a bit of a shock. Edward stood over his mother's shoulder, and Bella couldn't help but look at him while Mrs Cullen had her incapacitated. He was wearing either a strained smile or a small grimace – it was hard to tell.

"_Sorry_," she mouthed.

Edward twitched. Bella's heart sank even as Mrs Cullen released her. She;d blown that friendship before it had even really started.

"I'm Esme, by the way." Said Alice's mom, just as a formality after squeezing Bella half to death; as upset as she was with Edward's reaction to her, she couldn't help but adore his mother.

"And _this_," broke in Alice, "is Mr. Jasper Whitlock."

Bella had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Alice was presenting her piece de resistance alright.

"It's an honour to meet you sir, ma'am."

He kissed Esme's hand and shook Carlisle's, but the Cullen's reactions took both him and Bella by surprise. Carlisle and Esme exchanged a loaded look before turning to Edward, who nodded almost imperceptibly at Alice. Alice nodded furiously.

Esme stepped forward and took one of Jasper's hands in both her own.

"May I just say, on behalf of all of us, how delighted we are that Alice has found you after all this time."

Alice's face was practically shining with joy. Part of Bella was waiting for Jasper to run screaming for the hills. It never happened.

"You and me both, ma'am," he said, and Alice looked like she might explode with happiness.

"Call me Esme, dear," Esme said, and her smile was filled with relief.

Bella had an idea that there was more going on with Alice and Jasper than she knew about.

"Well sit down, sit down! There's lemonade or coffee if anybody would like some, and you two can tell us all about yourselves!"

Bella gratefully accepted a cup of coffee and sat back as Carlisle and Esme grilled Jasper on his childhood (happy), his family (just his momma and him), and his career (constantly thwarted by the miserable Yankee dean of the university's history department). She would have kicked him in the shin for the derogatory yankee comment, but he was cuddled up with Alice on the sofa opposite. Esme and Carlisle had claimed the armchairs between them, so that left Bella sat far too close to an equally uncomfortable looking Edward on the love seat.

Alice was watching them like a hawk; most likely up to something, as usual.

"And what about you, Bella?" Esme turned her charming smile on her, "Alice tells us you work for the paper?"

Alice had probably told them her vital statistics, favourite food and blood type as well.

"Yes," Bella said, forcing her voice loud enough to be heard, "I'm just a junior copy-editor though, it's not very glamourous."

"Nonsense," Esme dismissed, "a lot of people would never be able to do that job well."

"You don't know how well I do it," she said with a half smile.

"Rubbish. You're very good."

Bella's eyes shot up to meet Edward's. She'd not really expected him to speak, and certainly not to compliment her. And was he blushing?

"I mean, that's what Alice told me."

Alice, however, was rolling her eyes.

"Well… thank you."

Bella stared into his eyes for a moment longer. He didn't break the eye-contact, and Bella became gradually aware that nobody was speaking.

The moment, whatever it was, was interrupted by the repeated blaring of a car horn outside the house.

"Emmett's here!" crowed Alice, extracting herself from Jasper's arms and dancing off to the doors.

Esme and Carlisle exchanged a dark look.

"Why didn't you tell us he was coming?" Carlisle asked.

"I didn't know," said Edward, "Alice is on one of her project kicks, you know that. She's not keeping me in the loop."

Bella thought he sounded sort of bitter.

"Anyway," Edward was griping now as they made their way to the font door in Alice's wake, "what does it matter?"

Esme sighed.

"The Hales are coming over, they've asked me to help with the wedding plans."

Whatever Edward's reply would have been, whatever that _meant_, it was drowned out by Alice's squeal.

"I knew it! Emmett, you're brilliant!"

Emmett was climbing out of an oversized cherry red truck.

"Oh ye of little faith," he scoffed, heading round to the passenger door and helping an older lady in a fox-fur stole down to the ground.

"This is going to go swimmingly," groused Edward.

Bella looked to Jasper, but he just shook his head; he was just as much in the dark as she was.

Carlisle stepped past Edward, giving him a swift squeeze on the shoulder.

"Leonora!" he called, "What a wonderful surprise!"

Esme looked between the woman and the main road, wringing her hands. She didn't look like wonderful was the word she would have used.

Carlisle led Leonora to the porch. Emmett and Alice followed behind, whispering to each other.

"May I introduce Bella Swan and Jasper Whitlock? They're friends of Alice and Edward's. Bella, Jasper, this is Leonora McCarty, Emmett's mother."

"How do you do, ma'am," said Jasper. He even did a little bow.

Bella briefly wondered if she could do a curtsey without falling flat on her face. Alice shook her head. That was a no then.

"It's nice to meet you," she said instead.

Leonora looked at her through shrewd eyes.

"Swan, you say? What does your father do?"

"Uh," Bella stuttered, "he's chief of police back in my home town?"

Leonora's lined face cracked into a smile.

"At last! A girl from proper stock! It's about time Edward stopped bringing those fancy little debutantes home and found a real woman!"

"Now Nora, I don't think it's quite like that yet," said Carlisle.

He looked at Alice, and she winked at Leonora. Oh God, they were all in on it. It was officially lets torture Bella day.

She studiously avoided making eye contact with Edward in case she combusted with shame.

"You were a debutante, Mom," said Emmett, taking her arm and leading her into the house.

"And young Mr Edward was too good for me too," she said with a cackle.

Bella chanced a look at Edward then, and he was almost fluorescent his face was so bright. Maybe she'd got it wrong and she was just a pawn in some sort of rich person hazing ceremony that Edward was suffering.

Rich people were bastards, right?

Carlisle assisted Leonora to one of the armchairs, and Esme joined Bella and Edward on the love seat – pushing them closer together in the process. In fact with the way she was wriggling about she seemed to be forcing Bella practically onto Edward's lap. Bella managed to avoid it, but she was sat so closely to him that the entire left side of her body felt like it were made of pins and needles.

As a distraction she concentrated on Leonora McCarty.

She was considerably older than Esme and Carlisle, they actually looked more likely to be her children than Emmett did. They care that Carlisle was taking of her suggested that she might be in poor health, but she didn't look frail. Her eyes were bright and sharp, and her bearing was that of a woman confident in her own skin. For the first time in her life she felt jealous of a retiree.

"I didn't know you were planning on coming over," said Esme, no trace of nerves or concern in her voice, "I'm afraid I shan't be able to join you for cards this afternoon, Nora. Marguerite Hale will be here any moment with her children, and I'm afraid I've promised my company to them."

Leonora smiled.

"That's quite alright by me dear. You know your sweet husband is quite useless as blackjack. I'll have half his fortune before supper."

Much of the warmth left her voice then, and he smile disappeared entirely.

"I must ask what you're doing associating with that dreadful woman."

Esme span her wedding ring around her finger.

"They've asked me to help plan the wedding. I couldn't very well say no, I am Rosalie's Godmother."

"Hmmph."

Leonora settled further back into her seat, evidentially displeased with Esme's reasoning. There was an awkward silence.

Bella looked of to Alice for guidance, but she was biting her lip and staring at the floor. She looked… guilty?

"So," said Emmett, "have they set a date yet?"

He was trying to sound jovial, but to Bella it sounded forced: like he might choke on the words. Esme began to answer, but Leonora got there first.

"And a miserable day it will be too for that girl! To allow herself o be pushed around by that mother of hers, a woman who cares only for money. You know perfectly well why they named you the girl's Godparents, and after the tragedy they just moved their sights. Terrible woman, that Rita Hale."

"I brought you a truck!" cried Alice, waving a finger at Bella, "Emmett, tell her!"

"What?" said Bella.

"A truck! For you!" Alice's eyebrows danced up and down like she was trying to communicate something incredibly important with them.

"You brought me a truck? You can't just buy me a truck."

"I can," said Alice, "and I did. Emmett?"

Emmett stared blankly at the floor.

"Sure, Bella. She brought you a truck. That one outside, as it happens."

"But," Bella gaped at Emmett, "but," Alice smiled back at her, "but," Edward and his parents had all their attention on Emmett, "but you _can't._"

"I think," drawled Jasper, "that we've established that she already has."

"When I was young," said Leonora, "we showed gratitude for our gifts."

Bella struggled to organise her thoughts. A moment ago they'd been hearing about some girls unfortunate marriage, and the next Alice and a suddenly morose Emmett were foisting a truck on her. It was a lot to take in.

"Uh," she managed, "thank you. But you shouldn't… I mean, _a truck._"

"Nonsense, you introduced me to Jasper, you needed a truck. Seems a perfectly fair exchange to me," Alice said.

"_Fair_? It's too much Alice, you know…"

"Bella."

Somehow, Edward's voice stopped her dead, even though all his attention seemed to be on Emmett.

"Let it go. She'll get her own way, as usual, and you get a truck. It's win-win."

Bella opened her mouth o protest – after all, Jasper was a great guy but he was probably still only worth a small Opel – when the doorbell tolled out and her shock was swiftly forgotten.

"They're here," said Esme, rising from her seat and tucking her hair neatly behind her ears.

Leonora huffed, but it still surprised Bella how she, Carlisle, Edward, Emmett and Alice seemed to rearrange themselves as Esme went to get the door. Their postured stiffened and their faces appeared somehow less expressive – like amateur actors faced with a difficult play.

Jasper raised one eyebrow at Bella; she shrugged.

"…please, come through."

Esme re-entered the room, followed by a woman in late middle age, with a severe expression but a surprisingly unlined face. With her were two small boys, and by far the most beautiful woman Bella had ever seen.

She floated into the room in a swirl of cotton sundress, her golden hair curling down her back, and cornflower blue eyes locked on the group around the fireplace.

Edward, Emmett and Carlisle all stood as the group approached. Bella didn't know how they did it – she'd have been far too overawed.

"Leonora McCarty," simpered the older woman in a voice like cloying treacle, "what a pleasure it is to see you again."

"The pleasure's all yours, Marguerite," said Leonora smoothly.

Marguerite's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"How are the family?" she said, but there was no real interest in her voice.

Leonora smiled slightly with her answer.

"Happy."

"How delightful. I see you've brought your youngest along. Elvis, is it?"

She spoke to Emmett as if he were a small child. Bella half expected him to stand up and break her neck.

"It's Emmett," he said, but his eyes were locked on the beautiful blonde girl, and she was staring right back.

Bella looked questioningly at Alice, but she was focused on the girl too – her brow furrowed in either concentration or confusion. Bella found herself paying attention to the girl just to see what all the fuss was about.

"Oh Esme! I see you've employed some help at last. I told you Carlisle would do himself an injury trying to _garden_. I mean, it's uncalled for! And what is that girl _wearing_?"

Edward shot out of his seat like he'd been electrocuted.

"They're not the help, Marguerite. They're friends of Alice and Edward's."

It wasn't till Carlisle spoke up that Bella even realised that Marguerite had been talking about her.

"Oh," said Marguerite. She looked at Jasper as if he was somehow repellent to her; he returned her horrified look with a slightly frightening grin, "_friends_?"

Edward sat down slowly, his face thunderous.

"Yes, Mrs Hale," he said, "friends."

"They are guests in my home, Marguerite. I would ask you to treat them as courteously as you would any other guest."

Esme's tone was polite, but with a hint of steel. Behind her, Leonora let out an undignified snort. Even if they hadn't been introduced, that would have marked her out as Emmett's mother straight away.

Obviously against her better judgement, Marguerite held out her hand to each of them. To Bella, it felt like shaking a limp fish.

"Bella, Jasper, this is my Goddaughter, Rosalie Hale, her mother, Marguerite, and her brothers, Bastian and Nicolas."

Marguerite continued to sneer at them, and Rosalie showed no interest in them whatsoever, but the smaller of the boys, Nicolas, managed to offer a small smile, and his older, braver brother even waved at Jasper.

"Come on boys, I promised to teach you pool. Lets go and let the ladies have their fun."

Carlisle took each of the Hale boys by the hand, and then turned back to he others.

"Edward, Emmett, Jasper – would you care to join us for a game, or would you prefer to watch the wedding fashion show?"

Alice clutched Jasper's arm and looked at her father like he was mad. Emmett didn't even react.

"I think I'll stay," said Edward, to Bella's great surprise.

"Suit yourselves," shrugged Carlisle, and he led the boys out of the room.

"Well then," Esme clapped her hands, "are you going to show me this dress?"

Rosalie stared at her.

"Oh, oh yes. Certainly. I'll need help though."

There was something about Rosalie Hale that made Bella feel uncomfortable.

She showed none of the excitement that Bella imagined a bride to be should have, and there was a hollowness to her, an emptiness in her eyes, that reminded Bella of the Stepford wives. For the first time she found herself thankful she _hadn't_ been born rich.

As Marguerite escorted her daughter off to put on her dress, Bella checked Alice's reaction. She was frowning after them, her expression a perfect blend of concentration and bemusement.

"What on Earth's the matter with Hale?" asked Edward.

Esme sighed, "Perhaps it's just cold feet?"

Leonora scoffed.

"You always think the best of people. Do you think that girl has any say in this marriage? I know the Kings, and if she were smart, she'd have run for the hills by now."

Emmett's face contorted into a pained grimace; a flash of something Bella couldn't interpret crossed Alice's face.

The door opened, and Rosalie entered.

If she'd been beautiful before, now she was breathtaking. Emmett made a strangled gasping sound.

The dress itself wasn't to Bella's personal taste, but the layers of tulle floated around Rosalie's stunning figure and made her look ethereal, like a fairy princess from a child's story. Esme began dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Oh Rosalie…" she sobbed.

"I know," said Rosalie, smoothing her skirts with a satisfied smirk. Whatever else was going on with her, she was fully aware of the power of her looks, "it's couture, of course."

Alice swayed slightly in her seat.

"We've arranged things with the country club," said Marguerite, "five hundred guests for the day."

"Will there be swans?" asked Jasper innocently.

Edward poorly concealed his laugh behind a cough. Rosalie scowled at both of them.

"I'm afraid," said Marguerite, "that _you'll_ have to find out from the papers."

It was Alice's turn to scowl then.

"I believe," said Esme in a calm voice, "that Jasper and Alice will be attending together."

"Will they _indeed_?"

Marguerite's eyes opened comically wide. Jasper slung an arm around Alice's shoulder and beamed.

Rosalie cleared her throat.

"I need to talk to you about flowers, Aunt Esme. Should I carry a posy of a shower?"

"You should have a posy," piped up Bella, recalling a similar debate from her mother's second wedding, "you've got the figure for it, and it won't detract from your dress."

Rosalie's jaw dropped.

"I was asking Aunt Esme, not you, you strange, scruffy little girl. I doubt Edward's paying you for your opinions. Although…" she looked Bella up and down critically, "I can't imagine what he _would_ want to pay you for."

Everything happened so quickly then that Bella hardly had time to register the insult.

Esme immediately began remonstrating with Rosalie, who looked entirely impassive. Alice and Jasper looked as though either of them would happily murder the Hales where they stood, and Leonora looked pleased as punch to have a front row seat at a full on fight.

Emmett just looked desperately sad.

In the midst of the commotion and the burgeoning sense of anger and distress she felt as Rosalie's comment sank in, Bella felt someone take her by the elbow and lead her outside. It came as a surprise when, halfway across the lawn, she realised it was Edward. She tripped over her own feet – there were no divots in _this_ lawn – but Edward had a tight grip and pulled her back on her feet.

"Christ, can't you look where you're going?" he snarled.

She wanted to come back with some smart retort, something suitably scathing to counteract his sharp words, but to her horror she felt tears welling up in her eyes instead.

Edward tugged her down to sit beside him on some decking at the water's edge. Bella sniffed, and tried to keep her blotchy face averted.

It didn't work.

"Are you crying?" he asked, horror-struck.

Bella shrugged, and sniffed again.

"You are! You're crying!"

"Am not."

She snuck a look at him from the corner of her eye. He sat with his head in his hands, his knees drawn up to his chest.

"Look, I'm sorry, I really am. Mom's known Maggie Hale for years and years. Awful woman. I don't know why Mom still bothers," Edward turned to look at her and gave her a weak version of his lop-sided smile, "I think it's probably because Mom knows she can trounce her at bridge."

Bella didn't answer; she didn't know what she was supposed to say.

"And I'm sorry about the way I've treated you too. I've been…" he looked down at his feet, "les than a gentleman to you."

Bella laughed humourlessly.

"You can say that again. Are you always this cranky or do I just bring out the best in you?"

"Well it's definitely got something to do with you, but it's not a negative thing. Well, not really."

He smiled at her properly now, but Bella didn't get whatever was amusing him.

"Right. I see. So if I somehow turn you schizo, what's Emmett's excuse?"

Edward's expression clouded again.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Please," Bella snorted, "Emmett's a happy-go-lucky guy. I might have been wasted last night, but I can still tell that something's changed with him since then."

"It's not really any of your business," said Edward shortly, then he sighed and turned his face to the sky, "it will be though, I suppose, if Alice gets her way."

"You know, for a guy who was just apologising for acting like an ass you've slipped back into it pretty swiftly."

Edward grimaced.

"I know, sorry. Again. Emmett's a bit… sensitive over it, that's all."

Bella had a hard time comprehending the words 'Emmett' and 'sensitive' being used in the same sentence.

"That girl," continued Edward, "the esteemed Rosalie Hale, has known Emmett since they were toddlers, and for about the same amount of time – well. Emmett's been in love with her since forever. Some of the local bands have written songs about it. He's like a tragic Billy Joel – his uptown girl is the ice-bitch."

"_Her_?" Bella's jaw dropped, "but Emmett's lovely, and she's… she's a bitch!"

"Tell me about it," agreed Edward, "he insists that she's not really like that. Says it's all her mother's influence. Personally, I think it's a matter of love being blind."

"So she's not interested then?" Bella felt the tide of her dislike for Rosalie rising swiftly.

"It's not that, or so Emmett says," Edward raised an eyebrow, as if to convey that anything Emmett said about Rosalie Hale was to be taken with a large pinch of salt, "that she told him, before Royce King came along, that she'd always felt the same way."

"Well she lied then, surely. She wouldn't marry this Royce if she loved Emmett."

"It's not that simple. All the Hale's have ever cared about is money and prestige. Emmett's a well-off guy, but his family name is in pieces. You saw how Marguerite reacted to Leonora. Leonora was a daughter of an old family. Something big in hotels. She married Mac McCarty for love, and he was a self-made man. On its own that wouldn't have made that much difference to the Hales, but Emmett's the youngest of nine kids. When his dad died his older brother, _only_ brother, inherited the family business. Elijah's drunk the profits away, and ruined the McCarty name in society circles at the same time. For George and Marguerite Hale, having their daughter become a McCarty would be shameful," Edward sighed, "they'd probably rather she married Jasper than Emmett."

"More likely you," whispered Bella.

"Oh yes," Edward's voice was laden with bitterness now, "rather me than anyone else, I think. Or at least that was true, once."

"You… you didn't want to. Did you?"

Bella held her breath and found herself wondering why his answer meant so much. Edward looked her in the eyes, and the intensity of his stare sucked the breath from her lungs.

"No," he said, without blinking, "I swear to you. I've never wanted Rosalie Hale."

"What have you wanted?" her voice was so quiet she was surprised he could hear her.

_Where did that come from? Are you mad? Are you out of your tiny little mind, Swan?_

"I have a problem, Bella," he leant closer, and she could feel his breath on her face, "I always want what I can't have."

"I don't think," her eyes dropped to his lips before lifting back to meet his, "that that's necessarily true."

Edward's eyes darkened, and he leant in even closer.

"Well, if I'm going to hell…"

_Ohgodheisgoingtokissmedonotvomitdonotvomitohgod…_

"Bella!"

Alice came dancing down the garden, Emmett and Jasper in her wake. Edward jumped back like he'd been electrocuted.

"Come on! Dad's taking the boys and us out in the boat. It'll be fun!"

She looked between Bella's beet-red face and Edward's frown, and giggled.

"Not interrupting, are we?"

"Not at all, Alice," said Edward, getting to his feet and offering Bella a hand to help her up. The tingle from where his skin touched hers was even worse than before.

_Oh yeah,_ thought Bella, with venom she didn't think she possessed, _**Fuck**__ Alice Cullen._

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**I'll be honest, without my plans, next chapter will be a mystery to me as well as you! Any requests? (Outside of continuing the interrupted moment, I know where that's going!). Hope somebody's still reading, anyway! **


	10. Probability

**AN: Just a short one this time, bit of a filler to keep you going while I re-do my chapter plans. Just because it's short doesn't mean it's irrelevant though! I do love a good foreshadow!**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. If only, eh? Oh, and credit to Ffi for one of Bella's lines. Thanks BFF. ILU. xxxx**

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**Chapter 10 – Probability**

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**Anything that **_**can**_** go wrong **_**will**_** go wrong.**

**- Sod's Law**

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Bella flopped onto the deceptively uncomfortable coffee house sofa, exhausted and aching from head to toe. She tried to shimmy her too-tight pencil skirt down to a decent length, failing shamefully. From the seat opposite Alice looked her up and down and winked her approval.

"Why are we here, Alice?" she moaned, slipping a heel off and rubbing her foot, "We have coffee in our apartments which are _right across the street_."

Alice rolled her eyes.

"This is _Seattle_, Bella, and we're young, hip professionals. Embrace the cliché! Plus," she lowered her voice, "don't you want people to see you looking cute?"

Bella grimaced, and fussed further with the hem of the skirt that Alice had pressed on her; the bow on the neckline of her blue blouse felt like it was choking her. Sure, on Alice the outfit would have looked awesome, but Bella felt overdressed and ridiculous. Alice should have kept it for herself instead of foisting it on her.

"I look like a sausage and my feet are more blister than flesh."

"Pain is beauty," said Alice, sitting back with a smirk, "and I've never seen Edward look at a pork product the way he was looking at you this weekend."

She beamed; Bella blushed furiously.

Their boat trip had been mostly uneventful, a pleasant afternoon out on the lake with friends, and the company of Carlisle and the Hale boys had prevented too much humiliating discussion of the night before. Bella had actually spent most of the trip sunbathing with Alice during the brief breaks in the cloud cover whilst the boys, the fully grown ones in particular, attempted a spot of fishing.

When Nicolas, the younger Hale boy, snuck off to beg a story from Bella and Alice they found themselves constantly having to shout down the abusive tirades Jasper, Edward and Emmett were directing at each other and their elusive prey. Bella was sure she'd never understand the compulsion to slaughter wildlife that boys seemed to possess.

So she'd told Nicolas stories that she recalled from her own childhood, Alice had occasionally joined in with a shocked comment on fairytale morals or a costume suggestion that she insisted would improve the story immensely, and in the midst of that her mind never really stopped dwelling on Edward's closeness back in the garden and the absolute certainty she'd felt that he'd been about to kiss her. She'd have let him.

Oh, who was she kidding? It was only the spectre of old Bella, hovering around her sub-conscious and cramping her style, that had stopped her jumping him and dragging him under his mother's rhododendron bushes.

Occasionally, when Nicolas was being entertained by Alice and the boys sounded immersed in wrestling with the creatures of the deep, she'd watch Edward from behind the curtain of her hair. She'd paid attention to the way his arms moved and the damp patch on the back of his shirt that she really ought to have found repulsive but actually found quite the opposite. She'd once told Jacob that he was sort of beautiful, but Edward; Edward was a different league.

He'd caught he looking once, and before she could hide her blush back behind the safety of her hair he'd sent her a grin so warm, so inviting, that she'd felt a glow right down to her toes.

That smile and the memory of his closeness had sustained her till this wet, miserable Monday afternoon, but sitting in an overpriced coffee shop, dressed like a secretary in a porno, overtired and faced with Alice's Cheshire Cat grin, even her Edward induced glow was fading.

"Oh cheer up," Alice said, noting her sour expression, "so you didn't get to make out with my brother. Just give it time – timing's everything! You have to get it right."

She nodded sagely, wrongly assuming that Bella had the faintest clue what she was going on about.

"Don't talk to me about it, please. It's creepy. He's your brother." Bella's eyes narrowed, a sudden, dreadful idea having occurred to her, "Hang on, when the timing's right? What exactly _have_ you seen, Alice?"

"Oh relax," she scoffed, "I won't peek. Much. Plus he's not my real brother you know."

She wriggled her eyebrows in a manner she must have learnt from Emmett. Bella struggled to keep her face impassive.

"You sicken me, Cullen."

"You're no fun at all, Swan."

Alice looked about her, her hands running nervously up and down her coffee cup.

"Where's Jasper? He's meant to be here by now."

Now it was Bella's turn to roll her eyes.

"He's on the bus. It takes forever, trust me. Anyway, I thought you knew everything. Shouldn't you be able to pin-point his whereabouts through the power of your mind?"

Alice scowled.

"I'm a psychic, not a sat-nav. Besides, I can't see everything you know," she frowned, "half the time I'm not even sure what I am seeing, to be honest."

As quickly as it had appeared Alice's frown was replaced by another sunny smile.

"I totally knew you'd love the truck though."

Bella bit her lip to keep from smiling too widely. If she wa being honest she _loved_ her truck. It was a bright red, brand new Chevy with every mod-con she could think of and a few she was sure Alice and Emmett must have just made up for the hell of it. She still thought, no, she knew, it was too much – it must have cost Alice the equivalent of Bella's yearly salary even with Emmett's connections and eye for a bargain – but she was also trying to be mindful of what Leonora McCarty had told her. She could be gracious. She was twenty four years old; it was about time she learnt to accept gifts without figuratively throwing them out of her pram.

She did wish that Alice had tried to teach her that lesson with jewellery, or maybe a hamster, because she was at a loss as to how she was going to explain the shiny new truck to her dad on her next visit. He'd think she was dealing drugs or running a vice ring or something, and 'My slightly psychic neighbour-cum-friend-cum-occasional-co-worker brought it for me to say thanks for introducing her to a boy' would only convince Charlie that Alice was her pimp.

Bella shook that mental picture out of her head quickly, and returned her attention to a curious looking Alice.

"Alright, spill it. You've been mooning over something or other ever since we got here. What's up?"

"Bella doesn't moon," Jasper approached the table with a smile for Bella and a full on grin for Alice, "she _analyses_. I'm surprised she hasn't blown a circuit with all the over-thinking she does."

Alice leapt from her seat to kiss him thoroughly. Bella grunted into her coffee.

"Thanks for that ringing endorsement of my faculties, Whitlock."

"Anytime," said Jasper graciously as he sat beside Alice and flung an arm over her shoulder, "so carry on. What's been going on?"

"She fancies my brother," Alice said proudly.

"_She_ is sat right here," Bella slammed her coffee down on the table and sighed, "I do need to talk to you about something though: Something that has nothing at all to do with Edward."

Alice looked unconvinced, but Jasper nodded expectantly.

"So?"

Bella picked at her hem, and told them.

* * *

Bella had known from the moment she'd walked in that morning that this day wasn't going to pan out quite like the previous ten.

Heidi had been right inside the door as Bella entered, stalking up and down like a starved lion awaiting an unwary gazelle.

"Well if it isn't Bella Swan, life and soul of the party!" she'd crowed, "You were looking very cosy in 'Pressure' Friday night."

"Was I?" Bella tried manoeuvring past her to reach her desk, but Heidi neatly blocked her escape attempts.

"You looked it to me. You were all over Edward Cullen like a bad rash." Heidi savoured every word, and Bella could feel the heat rising into her cheeks.

"Not that it's any of your business, Heidi, but we're just friends. He was helping me prop up the bar, that's all." Bella was irrationally angry with her self for the sting to her heart when she said 'just friends'. She really was becoming pathetic.

"From what I saw," Heidi said, "he was the one propping you up in the end." She gave Bella an exaggerated wink.

Bella cringed.

Drunken stupidity was one thing when your friends witnessed it, but barely civil snotty-nosed co-worked from hell? It was a scenario from her worst nightmares.

She managed to slip away from Heidi and over to her desk. James's was mercifully empty, but Laurent was watching her over his monitor with cautious eyes.

"Edward Cullen's bad news, Bella. You should be careful."

Laurent spoke kindly enough but Bella had, frankly, had it up to her eyebrows with the cryptic warnings against her friends. She slammed her hand down on the desk so hard that even Marcus twitched.

"Will you either tell me what's so bad about the Cullen or leave the subject alone? I don't like having to spend my days trying to figure out every bizarre titbit you guys throw my way. It's like trying to finish the world's most convoluted crossword puzzle."

Laurent looked rather surprised.

"You really are from the back end of nowhere. _Everybody_ knows about what Edward Cullen did."

"They do?" Bella's stomach seized up, though she couldn't explain why. Edward was moody and over-sensitive, sure, but he wasn't _bad_. Was he?

Heidi seemed to sense Bella's discomfort and leant in for the kill, her voice dripping poison.

"Well it really started about twelve years back, but some people think he always had it in him, even before he came here. Carlisle Cullen…"

_Crash_.

The glass in the office door rattled in its frame as it flew open to reveal Aro, his arms outstretched flamboyantly as if he was having to physically restrain himself from embracing them all.

Heidi fell back in her seat and plastered a false smile onto her face as Aro smiled at each of them in turn. James snuck in under one of his arms, but Aro paid his late, dishevelled appearance no mind whatsoever.

"How are you my dears? How is young Bella settling in? Wonderful, wonderful!" he clapped his hands with great enthusiasm as he answered his own questions, or at least pretended to hear the answers he wanted.

Nobody in the room seemed to know what to say or how to behave. Even James, whose tie was askew and his shirt un-tucked, had replaced his normal foul expression with one of bemusement. Evidently visits from the Editor-in-Chief were few and far between.

Marcus heaved himself to his feet in the far corner.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, in the same surprisingly strong voice Bella had heard once before.

Aro turned his watery eyes on Marcus.

"I shall have a new role available in the next few weeks in the main editing suite. Would you be so kind as to select a candidate from your superb team here?"

Aro fluttered his fingers in their direction as he spoke. Bella swallowed a snigger. The junior copy-editing team at the Seattle Times were less a team, superlative or no, than they were a disparate group of ex-English majors with borderline personality disorders.

James caught Bella looking at him and sneered as he fixed his tie. Maybe borderline wasn't _quite_ a strong enough term for him.

"I need a team player, somebody who I can trust to be loyal to the business," Aro turned his toothy smile back on to them, "are you ready to impress me?"

Bella caught Laurent's eye. He looked like he'd stopped listening some point fairly soon after Aro had entered the room, but Heidi, and surprisingly enough James, were gazing at their boss, their faces displaying rapt attention.

"Well, I'll let you get on then," Aro cooed, making his way to the door, "deadlines to meet, children! Deadlines to meet!"

He slammed the door again on his way out.

Heidi's attention was immediately back on Bella.

"So, where was I?"

Bella frowned.

"You were about to tell me what your problem is with Edward Cullen."

"Oh darling, I don't have a problem with him! I've never even met him properly! It's what you_ hear_ about; that's what's so interesting." Heidi flicked her eyes left and right, lowered her voice and leant in closer, "It's too juicy a story for work hours anyway. Come out for a drink with us tomorrow night and I'll tell you things that will make your hair curl."

Bella wrinkled her nose in distaste. It was bad enough listening to Heidi's particular brand of poison during works hours, and she balked at the prospect of having to listen to it without the comforting prospect of a paycheque to look forward to, but curiosity had always been her greatest vice though (well, after emo-pop and too many sneaky shots from her dad's liquor cabinet at least) and this time it really had got the better of her.

"Yeah, alright. One drink."

* * *

Admittedly, the version of her day that she regaled Alice and Jasper with left out any references to Edward – partially because she'd insisted her odd mood had nothing to do with him, and mostly because she was already feeling guilty about going behind his and Alice's backs to find out some less-than-salubrious gossip – but without the benefit of Bella's stalkerish tendencies to put Heidi's offer into context Jasper and Alice seemed lost.

"So she just asked you to go out with them? Just like that?" Jasper shook his head, "I don't get it."

"It's not possible," Alice stated with palpable conviction, "Heidi is incapable of pulling her head out of her ass long enough to notice that other people exist, she certainly doesn't go about asking them to socialise with her. And what possessed you to agree to it? She's a stuck-up, snotty bitch. She probably only asked you because she's going to try and do you in. Get rid of the promotion competition."

Jasper stroked Alice's shoulder soothingly.

"She could well be right there, Bella. I thought you hated her?"

Bella grimaced. The small yet vocal part of her that was desperate for more information, good or bad, on Edward Cullen was beginning to be drowned out by dread and shame.

"I think it's fair to say that it's a pretty unlikely friendship, yes. But I do have to work with them. It can't help to be social."

"Can't it?" asked Alice darkly. She continued to glare balefully at Bella, and Bella shuffled in her seat under the intensity of it.

"Yeah, can't say I've ever been on a work night out that ended well myself," said Jasper, cottoning on to the change in atmosphere and speaking in an almost obnoxiously loud and cheerful voice, "Oh! I've got an invite for you too, Bells. You're going to love this one!"

"You so are!" agreed Alice, her move improving in line with Jaspers.

Bella raised an eyebrow.

"This doesn't involve any more bizarrely out of proportion thank you gifts does it? Because if it does I will put in a request for a pony now."

"Better than a pony, Bella," Jasper began waving his coffee cup around with wild abandon, "I am offering you, and the lovely Alice of course, exclusive access to the annual Washington state re-enactment extravaganza!"

Bella looked at him blankly.

"The what?"

"Re-enactment," Alice said, keeping her face remarkably straight, "you know, thousands of grown men getting into fancy dress and pointing wooden rifles at each other?"

"I know what it _is_. Why am I invited?"

Jasper's delight dimmed slightly. Alice, as was quickly becoming her duty, leapt to his defence.

"Jasper's the youngest Major in the Washington confederates, Bella! He needs our support!"

Jasper fluttered his eyelashes. Bella raised one eyebrow.

"Ah, so the truth about why you chose Washington comes out. Less competition was there?"

"Give me some credit," Jasper huffed, "I'm really very good."

"Oh alright, I'll be there."

Jasper nodded gratefully; Alice clapped her hands and squealed.

"It's going to be so much fun! I'm going to help Jasper with his uniform and everything!"

"A man in uniform eh Alice? Every girls dream. Shame he's the enemy though."

"Oi!" snapped Jasper.

Alice shrugged.

"Not necessarily. I'm a Mississippi girl by birth you know."

Bella received a very pointed glare from Jasper, and snorted into her coffee.

"You two really are the perfect pair, aren't you? What do I get to be at this thing then? Your prisoner of war?"

Alice winked flirtatiously.

"Oh thanks Alice," Bella cringed, "you really do spend too much time with Emmett. I have images in my mind that would make weaker people vomit."

"Charming!" Jasper sniffed.

Alice folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them guiltily.

"Did Edward tell you? About Emmett, I mean."

"That for some reason he's gone gaga over that Rosalie bitch? Yeah, it came up."

"I didn't know," Alice looked up at Bella, her face crumpled, "I didn't see that she'd be there, and in her wedding dress as well…"

Jasper pulled her to his chest and stroked her hair.

"You're not omnipotent. You can't catch everything."

Bella nodded.

"It's not your fault Alice, and anyway it seems to me that he's better of out of it, surely?"

"You can't help who you fall in love with," Alice sighed, and snuggled closer to Jasper.

Bella thought of Edward. She thought of his bizarre moodswings, attitude problem, and the apparently hair-curling nature of his reputation. She thought of the way he'd looked at her on Esme and Carlisle's lawn, and of the electricity that shot up her spine every time they touched.

"You know what Alice?" she downed the cold dregs of her coffee and pushed the mug away as she stood up, "I think you might be right."

* * *

**Okay, so next time on Counterpoint: Bella makes some decisions she regrets, somebody gets a snog, and somebody gets their heart broken. Till then, enjoy the Counterpoint playlist! It may give you clue to future events… or it may not! See my profile for the link!  
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	11. Pressure

**AN: Another long wait, I know. It does take me a long time to update, but I try to make them worth it. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. In answer to a review question: 'Snog' means to french kiss in British English. :D**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, and certainly not the characters of 'Twilight'. They're Stephenie Meyer's, more's the pity D:**

**Dedication: For Ffi: For bugging me to write more, whilst simultaneously distracting me from doing so (in the best way, obvs)! Hope this helps the toothache, homie. Love. xxx**

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**Chapter 11 - Pressure**

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We must not look at goblin men,  
We must not buy their fruits:  
Who knows upon what soil they fed  
Their hungry thirsty roots?

Christina Rossetti – Goblin Market

* * *

Tuesday had dawned hot and humid, the sort of day that boded thunder. Bella had felt fractious and irritated as she'd clomped around her apartment, rejecting outfit after outfit, and grumbling to herself about her own stupidity.

Alice and Jasper had been right last night. Socialising with Heidi, James and Laurent was a ridiculous, silly idea. She should have told them where to stick their gossip and turned in for an early night instead, but she hadn't. Her own curiosity had got the better of her again, and now she was hot, tired, and late.

"Oh fuck it. It'll do."

She smoothed the horribly expensive sweater Alice had insisted on buying her on their shopping trip and threw her hair into a sloppy ponytail before checking herself out in the shiny surface of her truck. Her reflection glowered back. She'd gone for simple and casual – very little makeup and comfortable flats – partially out of a lack of concern and partially because she didn't want to give her co-workers any ammunition. She couldn't imagine many things worse than being pitied by someone like Heidi.

"I'm only going for one drink to find out what their problem is, and then I'm going the hell home," she told her reflection, and nodded sharply.

Bella parked quite a way away from the bar that Heidi and the others were waiting in, and used the five minutes it took to walk over to practice her 'game-face', hoping that she might suddenly develop the self-confidence and sociability that she'd been sadly lacking for the last two and a half decades. She had considered, briefly, knocking on Alice's door and begging for a pep talk, but she didn't think "So I'm stalking your brother through the gossip of a nasty bitch who hates you" would endear Alice to her in the slightest. Anyway, Alice had seemed hurt last night, and Bella's choice of outfit would probably have given her palpitations. Plus, what was she supposed to say?

_Oh hi, Alice! Remember how I said I was going out with those stuck-up, self-centred psychopathic people from work? Well I really don't want to go; in fact, I'm only meeting them because I think they've got the dirt on your brother. Got any words of encouragement?_

Maybe not.

Just the memory of Alice's face when she'd told them about her plan to go out with her colleagues had been enough to make her withdraw, cringing, from the tempting prospect of spending the whole night hiding in Alice's shoe room.

So instead, due to a heady combination of her own cowardliness and curiosity, Bella found herself forcing her way through the crowd of smokers at the bar entrance and pushing open the door with shaking fingers.

"Yoo Hoo! Bella!"

Heidi was wriggling her fingers at her from a booth opposite the bar. Bella swallowed thickly.

Not only was Heidi flanked by the unwelcome, if expected, figures of Laurent and a thunder-faced James, but next to James – no, actually on his lap – was a sneering Victoria.

_Oh well, _thought Bella, plastering her face with her best fake smile, _in for a penny…_

"So," she said out loud, perching herself so that she was simultaneously sat next to Laurent and as far away from him as possible, "how er… how was your… afternoon?"

Victoria made a weird choking sound that sounded surprisingly like 'Fuck you'. Laurent shrugged noncommittally, and James, in a typical mood, just carried on glaring angrily at something over Bella's shoulder. Heidi, however, grinned at Bella. Something in her eyes put Bella in mind of a starving animal.

"We were just talking about the funniest thing! Guess who walked in five minutes ago!"

Bella shook her head.

"No idea?"

Heidi tutted.

"You're no fun. You're supposed to guess!"

Bella bit the inside of her lip to keep from screaming. She had no time or patience for Heidi's bullshit. This 'terrible secret' of Edward Cullen's had better be worth it.

"I really don't know anybody in this city, Heidi, so unless you want me to read you the phone book until I luck out you may as well just tell me."

Heidi pouted in disappointment, but before she could say anything Victoria piped up, her voice a snide drawl.

"Well, you know this one alright."

Heidi jabbed a finger over Bella's shoulder, towards the same area that James was concentrating his death glare on. Oh. Bella knew who it would be before she even turned round.

Alice sat on a high stool at the furthest end of the bar, Jasper leaning casually on the counter next to her. They were both watching her, and Alice raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Blushing furiously, Bella turned her attention back to her tablemates.

"Oh," she said.

"_Oh_?" Victoria laughed her horrible, screeching laugh, "Is that the best you can manage?"

"I _know_!" crowed Heidi, "Come on Bella! Surely you saw that, that _trash_ she brought in with her?"

"He looks like he hasn't brushed his hair for a month!" squealed Victoria loudly, and with evident relish.

Bella could almost feel her hackles rising.

"That's Jasper," she hissed, "he's a friend of mine."

Victoria laughed even harder.

"What odd company you keep," said Heidi with mock surprise, "I'm surprised you feel the need to hear worse of them!"

James stopped his freakish staring, and turned his dark, bloodshot eyes on Bella. He didn't speak, but there was something in his look that made her suddenly uncomfortable. She clutched her handbag tighter on her lap.

"I think this was a bad idea. I should go."

"No now Bella," said Laurent, patting the seat next to her in a way that only encouraged her to edge further away from him, "you promised us you'd stay for a drink and you haven't even chosen one yet."

Bella fiddled with the strap of her bag and bit her bottom lip.

"I'll get her one," said James, in a tone that brooked no argument. He stepped off to the bar, leaving both Laurent and Victoria scowling after him. Victoria made the odd choking sound again.

Bella cast a desperate look back over her shoulder. Jasper was watching James warily – Bella's warnings about the other man's bizarre hatred of Alice had obviously struck a chord with him – and Alice was concentrating on Bella, her face so animated that if her eyebrows had had little flags attached she might be attempting semaphore.

_He's got tofu_, Alice mouthed.

Bella wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

_What the fuck are you on? _Bella mouthed back.

Alice threw her head back and let out a silent scream.

"Earth to Bella!" cooed Heidi, distracting Bella from Alice's histrionics and dragging her attention back to her unwelcome company, "Didn't you come here for a reason?"

James slammed a drink down in front of her, and sneered.

She risked one last look back; Jasper seemed to be remonstrating with Alice now, but she was ignoring him, fiddling frantically instead with her cell phone. Bella tried her drink – it tasted awful, like battery acid – and forced herself to meet Heidi's eager expression.

"Yeah," she said, in a stronger voice than she'd feared she'd manage, "I want to know what your problem is with the Cullens."

Heidi giggled, and Victoria and Laurent joined in. It gave Bella the creeps.

"There you go again with your assumptions that it's in any way personal! Sweetie, we're just worried about you!" she reached over to pat Bella's hand, her over-manicured fingernails glinted like talons in the bar's low lighting.

Bella grimaced, and took another gulp of her disgusting drink. The sooner she finished it, the sooner she could get out of here.

"I don't think, with all due respect, that I need you to protect me from the Cullens."

She tried not to emphasise the 'you' out loud the way she did in her head.

Victoria snorted loudly.

"Please, that's what you think; tell that to that poor Russian girl."

Victoria's voice was shrill and loud enough to carry through the bar. Bella snuck a look over her shoulder only to see Alice passing nervously in front of a bemused looking Jasper.

"Keep your voice down, Vicky," hissed Laurent, nodding his head in Alice and Jasper's direction. Bella fought the urge to nod along in agreement.

"No! Why should I? Just because Sylvia Browne over there might hear me?" she laughed again, "What's she going to do, turn me into a newt?"

"Please God," grumbled Bella under her breath.

"Can we stop with the stupid games now?" asked Laurent, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't seem to be enjoying the evening any more than Bella was.

James leant over the table and leered at her.

"Looks like Miss Swan is just _dying_ of curiosity."

Heidi and Victoria both laughed uproariously; Bella threw back the rest of her drink and directed her best don't-fuck-with-me glare at Heidi. Heidi smiled angelically back.

"I want to tell this story, anyway." She clapped her hands gleefully in a way that reminded Bella painfully of Alice, "So! Super Doctor Cullen and his Stepford wife adopt this kid, Edward, and he's like, nine years old and comes from who know where. I mean," Heidi lowered her voice meaningfully, "who knows what his family were like or anything, right? So they all live together like this happy little family and they go fetch the little freak girl from some mental hospital or something and everything's hunky dory right?"

Victoria yawned loudly, "Do we need his life story?"

"I'm just saying," growled Heidi, "anyway, when Cullen was like, 16, he ups and runs away from home. Gets himself into all sorts of shit, running with gangs, living rough, and _then_ – and Bella, we're telling you this because we're your friends –"

Bella forced an unladylike snort back down her throat.

"… that Edward Cullen is a murderer."

Sometimes, time can do the strangest things. It speeds up whenever something unpleasant approaches, slows painfully down on Christmas Eve, and sometimes it can lose any sense of meaning whatsoever. Other times it stops altogether, and you're presented with a moment of absolute purest clarity where everything is still and all you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat.

That was what happened for Bella. For three heartbeats her brain tried to process Heidi's words, taking in the satisfied smile on her face, the matching smirks of James and Victoria, Laurent's upturned eyes, and more powerfully than any of that the feeling of two pairs of eyes boring into the back of her neck.

Alice.

Alice _and Jasper_.

They'd heard. But then, had they already known? Had Alice known? Had Alice known and _not told her_?

Time came rushing back, bringing with it the sounds of the crowded bar, a door slamming in the strong wind, and, over it all, horrible screeching laughter. Somebody slammed a drink down in front of her, and as she tossed it back the terrible metallic screeching stopped.

Ah. So that's what a patented Bella Swan hysteria fit sounded like.

Bella shook her head slowly, trying to dislodge the cotton wool that appeared to have replaced her brain. James was just sitting down; presumably he'd been the one to fetch another drink. She was almost grateful, especially when she saw Victoria's expression. She was looking at James like he'd slapped her. Heidi was watching Bella's breakdown smugly, but Laurent looked horrified, all his attention on the end of the room where Alice and Jasper stood.

Bella lowered her eyes to the table top; her head felt too heavy to hold up. The two disparate parts of her personality were at war in her mind. New Bella wanted nothing more than to throw Heidi's pretentious cocktail in her over-botoxed face and storm off to Alice, protesting Edward's innocence as she went. Old Bella was still in mid hysterical breakdown.

_You went to a club with him! You were alone with him for God knows how long! He knows where you live!_

She took a deep ragged breath.

_This would never have happened if you'd stayed in Forks_, chided old Bella. Old Bella sounded suspiciously like Jacob.

To her horror she felt her eyes welling up with tears. Maybe she was mad, even madder than she'd already feared, but no matter what the insidious voice of her traitorous sub-conscious said, her conscious mind would only allow her to say one thing:

"You're lying."

Victoria had stood and was shoving her way past James with a face like thunder.

"Believe what you want, but that girl's dead because of him, and God knows how many others," she seemed to spit the last part out to the whole bar, "who knows, maybe you're next."

The look she shot Bella as she left the bar suggested that Victoria wasn't exactly opposed to the idea.

Bella turned to Heidi, who looked rather put-out and oddly nervous; Laurent was concentrating very hard on his cuticles.

"If you don't believe me," said Heidi, "ask him yourself."

Even without turning to look, Bella knew what she'd see behind her. Because that just had Bella Swan written all over it, didn't it? Meet hot, mysterious guy; become best friends forever with his mentalist sister; have your co-workers accuse him of murder when he's three feet behind you. No wonder she was single.

Her heart, which had seemed to rise up in her throat at Heidi's words, sank with a dull thud to the very bottom of her stomach. She raised herself on to unsteady legs, still with her back to him, afraid to turn round and see…

_See what? _New Bella sneered, _A murderer? You don't _believe _the snot-faced cow?_

_Run away! _Screamed old Bella, _Run for your life!_

She took one unsteady step away from the table, and squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she just walked out now, didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge the events of this night in any way, things would go back to how they were before: confusing, amd mess, and murder free.

"Bella."

His voice stopped her in her tracks. Old Bella was practically having fits, but Edward's voice seemed to speak to something inside her. She couldn't walk away from him no matter what he'd done. She struggled to suppress another hysterical laugh. Was this really what it came down to? Was she doomed to spend the rest of her days mooning after a criminal like one of those sad middle-aged women she'd seen on day-time TV?

"Bella, look at me."

To old Bella's utter despair, her body turned of its own accord to face him. He was dressed in scrubs and a t-shirt, his hair even more askew than usual. Alice was clinging to his elbow, her face a picture of horror, and Bella remembered the way she'd been frantically calling somebody earlier. Alice had seen this, and she'd called Edward from his bed to… to do what, exactly, Bella couldn't say. From the look on Alice's face she wasn't entirely sure either. Jasper was in the background, looking from Alice to the occupants of the booth and back, his posture defensive. Bella felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Well look who it is," James's voice was falsely friendly, "the golden boy. Not looking so fucking perfect now, are you?"

He slipped his arm around Bella from behind. She shuddered, but made no move to get away. She was frozen on the spot; her brain seemed to have gone into lock down. Perhaps old Bella had decided that if she wasn't gong to run away from Edward she wouldn't be allowed to run away at all.

"Just fuck off, Shotton," said Edward, his face perfectly set into the mask Bella had seen before, "leave us alone."

"Us?!" James laughed shortly, "Did you hear that Bella Swan? The _murderer_ thinks you're with him!"

"He's not!" shouted Alice, and Bella was horrified to hear the crack in her voice. Alice was _crying_? Jasper's expression went from concerned to livid.

"Shut up, little witch," spat James., "everybody knows what he did, and everybody knows that Daddy paid the judge off, so save your whining for somebody that gives a shit."

"He didn't kill anyone, Bella," Alice sobbed.

Edward just stood very, very still.

"Aw," James faked sympathy, "it's too bad Bella doesn't believe you, ain't it, Bella sweet?" and one of his clammy hands made its way under the side of her sweater.

Edward's mask dropped away, and in that moment Bella could have sworn that he _was_ a killer; he looked like he was about to make short work of James. Yet before he could move, before Jasper's hand touched the bottle he was reaching for, before Alice's cry of, "Be careful! That jumper's cashmere!" had even had time to register in her brain; Bella had torn herself out of James's grip and kneed him in the balls with a satisfying _squelch_.

Jasper and Edward seemed to take that as permission, and launched themselves at a shrieking James and at Laurent who had come, slightly too late, to his friend's aid.

Bella only half noticed Heidi sneaking off out into the night as what seemed to be half the patrons of the bar decided to take the opportunity for a good fight, barrelling in on both sides. Bella stood to one side, bemused, as she watched Alice waving a bar stool over her tiny head and Jasper appearing to bite a large hairy man in a Led Zeppelin shirt.

"_BREAK IT UP! GET OUT! YOU'RE BARRED, ALL OF YOU! OUT! OUT!_"

The bar man was waving his arms around wildly to punctuate his shouts, but he only succeeded in almost getting dragged into the melee himself. Somebody had vaulted over the bar and was launching cans of tonic and miniature bags of peanuts at his head. Somebody else had stuck their head under a lager pump and was encouraging their mate to pump the entire contents of the barrel into their gaping mouth, and as far as she could tell Edward had disappeared entirely under a pile of college-aged kids with starched popped-collars. Bella finally snapped back to reality to do what she should have done hours ago; she cast one last desperate glance at the mound of fists and feet that she'd helped create, shouted a 'Sorry!' for Alice's benefit, and ran for it.

Bella forced her way through the gawping gang of smokers and on-lookers who'd gathered at the entrance, and threw herself out onto the neon lit pavement. It was dark, and the threatening clouds from earlier had closed in. She was swelteringly hot, and scared, and lost, so she did the only thing she could think to do: she carried on running.

Right into the road.

She barely had time to realise what she'd done, certainly not enough time to get herself out of there, when some unseen person came from the darkness and dragged her out of danger in a blare of horns and strobing headlights. She was just about to scream, her nerves not up to another round with James tonight, when her rescuer span her round to face him, grasped her by the shoulders, and shook her hard enough for her teeth to rattle.

"You could have been killed!" Edward's composed mask was long gone, he was breathing heavily and trembling so hard that Bella didn't think he was even shaking her on purpose, "You silly, ridiculous, careless girl! You could be dead, and then what would I have done?"

Bella blinked up at him, her mind felt like it had gone on the blink. None of the words he said made the blindest bit of sense.

"I'm sorry?" she said.

Edward dropped her shoulders and stepped away from her. His beautiful face was twisted with an emotion Bella couldn't place. She thought he might be ragingly angry, but when he spoke his voice and eyes were both soft.

"What would I do if you died Bella?"

Bella very nearly laughed out loud. In the space of one truly awful evening out her entire life seemed to have been turned on its head. She'd been felt up by her creepy co-worker, discovered that the guy she thought she might be in danger of falling in love with had been accused of murder, and that her best friend had neglected to mention the fact, and now, now what? He was declaring himself to her? It was too much for her to take in. Far too much for her to come up with a sensible, witty response, so she went for gormless instead.

"What are you doing now I'm alive?"

"Not nearly enough," he said bitterly. Edward took a step back towards her, and reached out a hand. It hovered, tentatively, inches from her face. "Do you believe her?"

"Heidi?" Bella clenched her fists at her sides, "Should I?"

Edward gave her the smallest of smiles, "Alice would say not to. I'm not so sure."

"Never bet against Alice, right?" Bella tried for a smile of her own, but it felt forced. Almost of its own accord, her left hand unclenched and lifted to rest on Edward's chest, "Did you kill someone, Edward? Really?"

"Don't ask me that," he was whispering now, closer than he'd been before.

Some part of Bella's mind sparked with the memory of Esme Cullen's garden.

"But – " she gasped, after all, Police Chief's daughters don't let things go that quickly, "you wouldn't, Edward. You wouldn't. You're not a bad guy."

"Bella," he was so close now that she felt his breath on her face as he spoke, "shut up."

He kissed her. He kissed her, and for those few glorious seconds Bella couldn't have cared less if he'd had a basement full of his victim's scalps. He was _kissing her_. He tasted like mouthwash and cigarettes and she should have found it disgusting, but instead she found herself winding her fingers into his hair and pulling him even closer. Police sirens were whining in the background, and heading closer, but Bella couldn't bring herself to care. She didn't think she'd be able to bring herself to care about anything ever again. Then, just as she'd been considering jumping into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and begging him to take her right there, he pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Too breathless to speak, Bella shook her head wildly. As if he had anything to be sorry for after that? Edward stepped away from her again, and held up a hand to prevent her coming any closer.

"I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry."

Bella's bliss twisted into a sinking feeling of dread.

"What do you mean?" she whispered

Edward took another step backwards, and the mask slipped back into place. Bella's breath caught in the back of her throat.

"Go home, Bella. Just – " he seemed to square his shoulders, and then turned his back on her, "go home."

And then, he was gone.

Bella managed to hold it together for a moment as her exhausted brain tried to catch up with what had just happened, but as the police cruisers came to a screaming halt behind her, and the sounds of fighting from inside the bar changed to declarations of innocence the thunderous skies cracked open, and by the time Alice made her escape from the scene of the crime and came to her rescue Bella's tears were unstoppable.

The first time Bella had her heart broken was on a filthy sidewalk in the torrential Seattle rain.

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**Okay, so getting made redundant sucks, but it does mean I'll have more time to write soon. I'd really love some reviews though, guys. I know it's irritating to beg for them, but it's so much easier to write when I know people care about what happens next! What do you reckon? Is Heidi telling the truth? Should Alice have said something to Bella? Is Edward a murdering bastard, or just a snog-em-and-leave-em bastard?**

**Next time, on Counterpoint: How's Edward going to fix this one? Is Jasper going to get arrested? Will James's testes ever work again? And did Edward really kill somebody? Some of these might be answered, who knows! ;)**


	12. Guilt

**AN: In which Bella cracks**

**Yes! Yes! Less than a fortnight till an update! Whooooooo! Mind you this should have been finished Monday, but er… Torchwood was on. A lot. TEAM IANTO!**

**Disclaimer: All Stephenie Meyer's, all the time.**

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**Chapter 12 – Guilt**

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**guilt is the cause of more disauders  
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**than history's most obscene marorders**

**ee cummings**

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"I don't suppose you need telling what a stupid idea that was?"

Bella and Alice stood - sodden to the bone - on the stoop of a police station. Bella still felt liable to fall apart at any moment, and could only sniffle miserably in agreement, but Alice, even looking more like a drowned rat than a fashionista, still didn't like her judgement being called into question. She drew herself up to her full four feet eleven inches and lifted her chin in the air.

"You should have seen what he was going to do to Bella, Mom. You'd have whupped his ass too!"

"I'd have done no such thing!" cried Esme, but she smiled sweetly at Bella nevertheless, "I would have called the police, or for help. I certainly wouldn't have beaten a man with his own shoe, Alice."

Alice sighed, and folded her arms in defeat.

"I couldn't help it, Mom. I'm sorry. They had stacked heels, and you _know_ how I feel about stacked heels."

"I know," said Esme soothingly, "but violence is never the answer dear."

Alice looked out at the still pouring rain, and sighed again. Bella supposed, vaguely, that if she'd been capable of normal feelings she'd have felt cold, bored and fed-up too. Although Alice had, in indomitable Alice style, managed to sweet talk her way out of a night in the clink she hadn't had the same success with Jasper. Although, as Esme had pointed out when she'd turned up with Alice's chequebook to post his bail, Jasper may have been let out by now if Led Zeppelin guy wasn't accusing him of swallowing part of his ear.

Laurent was somewhere in there too, and even though Bella had no idea where James was, or what he might tell the cops if they did bring him in, she didn't have it in her to care. Her insides felt like they were slowly being torn apart, and some sadistic chef was pouring salt in the hole they'd left behind.

How could he kiss her like that and then walk away? Why wouldn't he tell her the truth about Heidi's story? Was she that horrible a kisser? Was he really a murderer? She wasn't sure which option was worse, and that just made her sob harder. What sort of person was she if she could think that poor kissing technique was worse than murder?

Concerned, Esme pulled her in close for a comforting hug. Even that made her worse; apparently Edward and his mother used the same detergent. Christ, she was pathetic. She even wanted to slap herself.

"It's alright Bella darling. I'm sure they'll let Jasper off with a caution as long as he spits that poor man's ear out."

Alice huffed.

"Poor man? I don't think so Mom. That _poor man_ was trying to gouge Jazz's eye out."

Esme tutted disapprovingly as she stroked Bella's hair.

"Have you never heard, Alice, that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind? Substituting the body parts doesn't make the moral any less valid. Oh Bella. Whatever's the matter?"

No matter how hard she tried to stop, the sobbing was relentless. Bella shook her head and mopped uselessly at her eyes with an already saturated tissue. Alice looked from Bella to her mom pensively before seeming to come to some kind of decision.

"Mom, do you remember James Shotton?"

Esme's arm tensed around Bella's shoulder.

"Of course. It's not the sort of thing a mother forgets."

"Well he works with Bella at the Times. She came out with some of her co-workers tonight, and one of James's… associates was filling Bella in on some gossip."

Alice watched Bella carefully for a reaction. Maybe she thought reliving that conversation would make her snap completely.

"About us you mean?" Esme sounded indifferent, but her grip was still a little too tight.

"About Edward," said Alice quietly, "specifically about Irina."

"I see," said Esme, as if she'd chosen those words very carefully, "Why don't you go in Alice and wait while Jasper is sorted out? Your father will pick you both up if you need him, his shift should be finishing now. I think I should take Bella home."

Bella allowed herself to be lead away and ensconced in the comfort of Esme's luxury sedan. She was exhausted, far more so than the earliness of the hour allowed for, and so it wasn't until they were heading top the bridge that she realised Esme wasn't taking her home.

"Where are we going?" she said, or tried to say. It came out as gobbledegook.

"Try and rest, Bella. I'm taking you back to the house. You've had a shocking day. You shouldn't be alone in that little apartment."

Bella wanted to tell her that she couldn't sleep, that the hole where her heart used to be was too raw and the substance that had replaced her brain was aching too much, but the truth was that before the car reached the east shore of the lake she was fast asleep.

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There are few things in life more disturbing than waking up in a strange bed, with no memory of how you got there and no idea of how you're going to get out again, but one of those things must be the realisation that follows.

Bella sat bolt upright in the oversized bed, clutching expensive feeling sheets to her chest, and squinted against the sun that was reflecting off the lake and through the gap in the curtains. Of all the places that she'd thought she might have ended up last night – prison, a ditch, on the run with a hot murderer – this was one she hadn't considered. Conceivably, it was the worst option of all. She shuffled to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over the edge. At least she was wearing something, something expensive and silky and almost certainly Alice's - the pyjama bottoms barely reached her mid-calf. She spotted her clothes thrown over a radiator near the door; Alice would freak at the state of the cashmere sweater after last night's rain, it looked like she'd been through a car wash in it.

The room was plain; a copy of the same family photograph from Alice's bookshelf was the only thing on the bedside table, but the fact that Bella found herself in an enormous closet when she'd been aiming for a bathroom suggested that once upon a time, the room had been Alice's too. Relief trickled into the still aching hole in Bella's chest. After everything else, if she'd found out that Esme had put her to bed in Edward's room she would have had another breakdown all over her deep pile carpet. When she found the bathroom, which looked more like a cupboard than the cupboard had, she took a deep breath before facing her reflection. Her hair was worse than ever, having dried as she slept, and her eyes were like piss holes in the snow from hours of crying and the effects of those dreadful drinks. She looked like a wreck, she felt like a wreck, and she was waiting for Esme Cullen to come to the same conclusion. Maybe she'd take pity on her, and instead of throwing her straight out she'd be so kind as to point her in the direction of the nearest bus stop first.

As Bella hovered uselessly around the shower, trying to work up the energy or enthusiasm to do anything other than curl up in a ball and wait for death, somebody knocked gently at the bathroom door.

"Bella? Bella dear? I've brought you up some toast and coffee, I hope that's alright?" Esme paused, and when she spoke again her voice was hesitant, "I think you and I need to talk about some of the things that you heard last night. I know Alice thinks it's not our place, but…" she sighed, "If you're feeling up to it, I'd really like it if we could chat. I'll be in the study; it's just down the hall."

Esme padded away, and Bella took the chance to make a cursory attempt at making herself presentable. Esme hadn't been expecting an overnight guest, so although there were towels, shampoo and a spare toothbrush Bella would have only have been able to perform the bare minimum of primping even if she'd been inclined to. When she emerged from the bathroom, hair still wet and untamed, she discovered that as well as coffee and toast Esme had also brought in a change of clothes. Her thoughtfulness almost started Bella's sobs off again.

Through sheer force of will she managed to down the coffee and nibble politely at the toast, and then donned Esme's too-long jeans and a sweater before heading out to hover awkwardly in the hallway.

Part of Bella's hesitation stemmed from the sheer number of doorways leading off the corridor – Esme really should have supplied her with a map – but mostly it came from the fact that she hadn't the faintest idea what she was supposed to do. Meeting Alice and Edward's parents had been nerve wracking enough when they'd just been her friend's super rich parents. Now she was facing Esme: the super rich mother of an accused murderer that she was almost certainly in love with, and of the girl who Bella had introduced to a possibly cannibalistic criminal. Not to mention that Bella had accidentally-on-purpose started the bar fight in the first place, had not yet brushed her hair, and was halfway through a nervous breakdown brought about by the other woman's maybe-murdering son.

Super.

Luckily, or unluckily, as Bella fretted in the hall Esme appeared in the entrance to one of the rooms holding a hairbrush out in silent offering. Bella gave her a genuinely grateful smile.

"Come on in, Bella. I promise no impolite brides-to-be will be interrupting us this morning. I certainly hope not at least. I think I've just about reached my limit over the past twenty four hours."

Bella, cringing, followed her into her study.

"I am so, so sorry Mrs. Cullen. It was my fault. If I hadn't… attacked James then none of this would have happened."

Esme waved dismissively and laughed.

"Bella don't be ridiculous. It's my job as a mother to yell at Alice, don't think for a moment that I would have expected anything less of her – from either of my children – when a friend was in trouble, and anyway," she sat on a sofa and beckoned Bella to join her, "no harm done."

"No harm done? What about Jasper? And I'm missing work and…"

Esme hushed Bella gently before she could work herself into hysterics again.

"I spoke to Alice while you were sleeping. Jasper has been given a caution – it would appear that somebody else confessed to eating that man's ear – and Alice has called you in sick to work through Mr Jackman himself. You've nothing to concern yourself over, though I daresay you're all banned from that bar. Oh, Alice gave me a message for you. She says you need to learn to lip-read, does that make any sense to you?"

Bella rolled her eyes heavenward as Esme stood to pour two more coffees. Despite her horrible sense of priorities, she had to admit that Alice must have used all her (not inconsiderable) talents at damage limitation last night. It was just a shame she couldn't use those same skills on Bella's heart.

As Esme was fussing over the drinks, Bella found herself gazing absently at her surroundings. As well as the coffee table and two small sofas there was an shelved alcove full of books at one end of the room, and a large, ornately carved desk at the other. What caught Bella's attention above all though were the dozens of photographs that almost entirely covered the wall opposite the door.

There was the same picture she'd seen so many times now – the sad-faced children with their ecstatic parents – a large square canvas showing Alice in full ballerina get-up, Esme and Carlisle young and alight with happiness on their wedding day, and, strangely, the largest picture of all showed Esme and Carlisle, young still, but with a little boy perched comfortably on Esme's hip – a boy much too blond and smiley to be taken for Edward.

She only realised that Esme was paying her any attention when the coffee cup clinked on the table in front of her. She dragged her eyes from the photo, blushing furiously at being caught gawping, and turned all her attention of to Esme. Esme stepped over to the wall and laid a finger on the photograph's gilt frame.

"That's our son. Our biological son, I should say. William. Billy. He was killed by a brain tumour when he was three."

Bella bit her lip so hard she drew blood.

"Oh, oh I'm so sorry."

Esme didn't even seem to hear her. She kept looking at the photograph, a small crease forming between her eyebrows.

"At the time I thought I'd never get past it. Carlisle and I seemed to be growing apart; he threw himself into his work, I thought about throwing myself off a cliff. I couldn't have any more children after Billy, you see, and I think I was afraid. I blamed myself; I believed that his death was a reflection on my failure as a mother. It's very destructive, that sort of guilt. I'm not sure what would have happened if we hadn't met Edward," she laughed softly, and Bella felt immediately guilty for shuddering at his name, "He was the obvious choice for us. A young boy, both parents gone and no family prepared to take him on. He had a good background, liked to play the piano, enjoyed sports. He was the boy I might have liked Billy to grow up to be."

Esme sat back down next to Bella, and took one of Bella's hands in both of hers. Her expression was so intense that Bella found it difficult to look her in the eye.

"When he'd been living with us for eighteen months, Carlisle met Alice. He was treating her – he'd already begun making a name for himself in paediatrics – and she'd been so dreadfully neglected. She'd hardly seen daylight, her hair was so infested with lice I had to shave it all off, and she never could bear to grow it long again."

Bella gaped at her, aghast.

"But _why_?"

Why would somebody do that to a child, to _Alice_, and why was Esme Cullen telling _her_ about it?

"Alice's mother was sick," said Esme, with the sort of understanding that could only come from a doctor's wife, "so she did sickening things. She believed that Alice's visions were due to demonic possession."

Bella tried to imagine Alice as a tiny, okay _tinier_, girl, pleading with her mother to believe her crazy visions, only to be ignored and abused because of things she couldn't help. Suddenly the dark look that sometimes came over Alice's pretty face made a lot more sense.

"What did you think they were?"

Esme laughed again, bitterly this time.

"The overactive imaginings of a child who'd had no outlet for them. Of course, then they started coming true. Edward adored her and doted on her in every way, and it just seemed so easy. Oh, Bella," Esme gripped her hand tighter and her voice turned pleading, "I didn't mean to."

She let out a choked sob: Bella panicked, flailing about uselessly in a hunt for a tissue.

"Oh! Oh Mrs Cullen – Esme – please don't cry!"

Esme lifted one of her hands to rub at her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I'm not making you very comfortable am I? I'm afraid I'm a little out of my comfort zone myself. You see, it's been a long time since I went against Alice's advice on something. Carlisle thinks I'm over-sensitive. It's just… I look at that photograph," she gestured weakly at the picture that Bella was most familiar with, "and he looks so _broken_, and I'd just assumed he was okay. I'm his _mother_. I should have noticed."

Bella shuffled uncomfortably.

"Is this the part Alice didn't want you to tell me?"

Esme sighed, and hung her head.

"The details are Edward's to tell you if he chooses. I'm sure he's barely told me half of what went on, anyway. Three days after his sixteenth birthday he left for school in the morning, and never arrived. None of his friends or teachers knew where he might have gone. Emmett swore he had no clue that Edward was planning anything untoward. We'd all noticed that he'd been moodier – he hadn't been playing his music, or turning up for sports practice after school – but we put it down to normal teenage moods. We had half the police officers in the district looking for him, the wouldn't rule out kidnap, what with Carlisle being who he is, and then Alice came up to us in hysterics, telling us he's run away and she couldn't see him anymore. The family liaison officer must have thought we were mad."

Bella's brain hurt from trying to keep up, and her heart ached at what it saw as confirmation of Heidi's words from the night before. She shook her head slowly, trying to clear it.

"But Alice was right?"

"Alice is always right, as you well know by now I'm sure. It went on for seven months. Carlisle was a wreck, Alice wasn't sleeping, I tried to hold things together for them, but knowing that your child is out there somewhere, alone…" Esme shuddered, "I couldn't answer the telephone or go to the door unless Alice told me who it would be. I was so sure an officer would turn up one day and tell me he'd been killed. I couldn't have borne it, Bella. Not again."

Bella tried to smile, even though her insides felt like they were in a blender. She was fighting down an undignified urge to shake Esme and start screaming '_IS HE A MURDERER OR NOT!_' at the top of her lungs.

"But he came home," she said instead, "he's safe now."

Esme clutched Bella's hand ever more tightly.

"Alice had gone back to school, so I had to answer the door that day. It was a Thursday; boiling hot. I remember, because the poor officer was sweating. He told me that they had found Edward, and that he was down at the station," Esme smiled through her tears, "I could have kissed him. He'd already been to the hospital to inform Carlisle, and I think he _had_."

"Why was Edward at the police station?" asked Bella in a small voice. This time yesterday she'd been desperate for the scoop on Edward; now she was dreading Esme's next words. The irony didn't escape her notice.

Esme sighed and looked Bella in the eyes.

"As I said, Edward's the only one who can give you the full story. All I know is what the police told us and what Alice managed to piece together."

Bella nodded mutely for her to continue.

"He'd been found downtown. He'd said he was trying to make his way back home. He was filthy, emaciated, been in with the wrong crowd. Apparently, these people enjoyed taking young runaways under their wings so to speak. Edward had been found with a young girl, Irina Filatov. She was nineteen, and she'd been dead for at least six hours when they found them side by side."

"Christ." Bella's queasy feeling tore through her again and she clutched at her stomach, "in the heat?"

Esme nodded, and her attention flitted back to the photographs.

"There was no suggestion that Edward was to blame, she'd died of a heroin overdose, but that didn't stop people talking, and Edward has always blamed himself. I don't know why, because he's never told me."

She reached over, rubbed one of Bella's tears away with her thumb, and smiled.

"But I thought, sweetheart… I thought he might tell you."

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Bella trudged from her truck to the apartments. Despite the fact that Esme had dropped her back at her truck not long after their confessional and it was still only three in the afternoon, she felt more exhausted, emotionally and physically, than she could ever remember feeling in her life.

It was a lot to take in. In fact, a simple murder seemed easy to deal with when compared to the weight of Edward's myriad unexplained issues. Faced with mental overload Bella's brain had gone into a sort of shutdown where all she could see in front of her was the tempting mirage of her own bed. That was probably why she didn't notice the body in her hallway till she'd already tripped over it.

"_Oof_!"

She landed in an ungainly heap in her own doorway, limbs akimbo and the contents of her handbag strewn across the hallway. Edward half sat up, and blinked blearily at her.

"Bella?"

His velvety voice was rough from sleep, and he was still wearing the same scrubs that he had been the night before. Logically, Bella should have found that disgusting, but to her mind's great horror her heart was already swooning just at the sight of him. Her poor, aching brain wouldn't process his appearance on her doorstep properly, so instead of acknowledging him she just gaped at him like a goldfish.

_You are an idiot_, chastised old Bella and new Bella simultaneously – albeit for very different reasons.

Edward looked from her frozen expression to her scattered possessions.

"Oh God. I'm so sorry. I'm really not dong very well at this."

He started scrabbling about and picking up her stuff. She watched him in bemused silence until he reached for a tampon. Her brain kicked into gear just in time to save herself from that particular shame.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She was surprised at how angry she sounded considering how oddly numb she felt inside. Edward stopped fussing around and stared at his hands, abashed.

"I came to apologise. I wasn't planning on falling asleep, though I was also not expecting it to take you fifteen hours to get home."

"I went home with… wait, you've been sat here waiting for me since last night?"

Edward scratched the back of his head.

_Was he blushing_?

"Well… yes. Yes I have."

Bella looked down towards Alice's door.

"Why didn't you go to Alice when I didn't come back?"

Edward followed her gaze, and huffed.

"I did try at four am when they got home. She wouldn't let me in."

"Good," said Bella, with shocking vindictiveness.

Edward's face crumpled briefly before becoming the cold, emotionless mask once more, and Bella instantly regretted her sharpness.

"I see," he said, in an over-controlled voice, "well if that's the way you feel, Bella, I totally understand. I have no reason to expect your forgiveness. I only want to offer my…"

"Oh, Edward, shut up." Bella tried, and failed, to contain a yawn, "I'm shattered, and you look like you could sleep for a week. But if we really must have the conversation now can we at least not have it on the hallway floor?"

The mask cracked slightly, and Edward offered her the ghost of a lop-sided smile.

"Come on," Bella sighed.

She struggled to her feet, ignoring his proffered hand as assistance, and, having fixed up her bag, led Edward into her apartment.

He stood behind her as she fretted around the kitchen looking for things to fiddle with so that she wouldn't have to confront him. She wasn't ready for this. Esme's story still hadn't settled with her, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to hear him apologise for groping her in the street and then doing a runner, or beating up her co-workers, although they did sort of deserve it. More than anything, Bella wasn't used to not knowing how to react in a situation like this. She'd spent most of her life living without drama or intrigue; she'd stayed out of any cliques in High School, and the most upsetting decision she'd ever had to make had been to move in with her dad after her mom's re-marriage. Even that hadn't been difficult, though. Her mom had wanted to travel with Phil, and she couldn't do that while Bella was living with them. It had been obvious to Bella that she had to move out. It had been the right thing to do.

Since moving to Seattle she was starting to wonder if the 'right thing' even existed anymore.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been string, unseeing, at a set of measuring cups when Edward cleared his throat behind her. She came back to reality, but didn't turn to face him. Her heart was beating ten to the dozen, and she had the overwhelming feeling that his next words were going to change her life forever.

"Bella, will you look at me?"

"No."

If she looked at him he'd start talking, and if he started talking he would apologise for kissing her. Say it was a mistake. Break her heart all over again. If she looked at him, she'd know what this weird choking feeling was that had been settled in her chest since he'd left her in the road. She didn't want his apology, and she wanted to remain blissfully ignorant, because whatever that feeling was it was only getting worse in his presence.

"Please, Bella. I want you to tell me what you see when you look at me. Please."

It was like she couldn't resist. He seemed to have some kind of magnetic pull over her. She turned slowly, leaning back on the counter for support. He was just a few feet away from her, and she concentrated on the hollow at the base of his neck, too afraid of what she might see to meet his eyes. Gathering every ounce of dignity she still possessed, Bella forced her voice to remain steady. He had hurt her last night, and he was acting like a grade A prick. The safest reaction to someone like that had to be anger.

"When I look at you I see a crazy man; a crazy man who needs some form of professional help."

Edward laughed shortly, and she watched his Adam's apple bob with morbid fascination.

"Wow. You really know how to kick a guy when he's down."

"What do you want me to say, Edward? You beat people to a pulp for my honour, kiss me, and then thirty seconds later you toss me aside like shit. I can't keep up with you, I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Edward looked pained.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I just… I just thought, after what you'd just heard, that I'd be the last person you'd want forcing themselves on you."

"Heard what, that you were a murderer? Are you a murderer, Edward?"

Bella's face was getting brighter as her voice rose, but she still didn't look up at his face. The longer she avoided his eyes the longer she could keep her anger going for.

"What do you think?"

She let out a high pitched little scream.

"You know what? You're not a murderer. I know that, because I stayed at your mom's house last night, and I have spent this entire day so far embroiled in the strangest conversation I have ever had. You didn't kill anybody. But even if your mom hadn't told me the full story, I _still_ wouldn't believe you'd killed anyone. You're much too angst-ridden to be a proper cold-bloodied killer."

"You believed Heidi last night."

"I considered it, yes. It's called self-preservation, Edward. Look it up. But I knew, I _know_, that you haven't done anything wrong," steeling herself, she looked up and their eyes met, "you wouldn't. And don't ask me how I know that, I just do."

Edward's eyes looked worryingly watery, and his voice cracked a little. Bella was torn between the urge to cuddle him and the urge to shake him until his teeth fell out.

"You're lying."

Bella growled furiously. It was one thing to flagellate himself for some imagined crime, but it was quite another for him to accuse her of being anything less than honest. She wasn't the one with the big, dark secret here.

"I don't lie," she spat, the anger not forced at all now, "I'm not smart enough to lie. Or too smart to. You pick whichever option you're most comfortable with."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she was roaring now, all her heartbreak and confusion pouring out of her as bile, "is that all you can fucking say?! How about you stop saying it and start fucking acting like a man?"

"You just don't get it, Bella."

"You won't let me 'get it'! How will I ever 'get it' if I don't even know what 'it' is?"

"I think I'm in love with you."

Bella blew off his interruption with a snort.

"Excellent. I think you're an idiot. Moving on… wait, what?"

"I think I'm in love with you, and that scares me witless."

Bella's rage deflated like a popped balloon, and all she could do was lean on the kitchen counter and blink. The synapses in her brain were firing so hard she could practically hear them, but no thoughts were forming.

Edward had started pacing now, up and down her tiny kitchen, both hands in his hair.

"Alice kept telling me, but I didn't believe her, I thought she was being ridiculous. I mean, soul mates? Who believe in soul mates nowadays? I know she just wants the best for me, but she can be a proper little fruitloop sometimes so I just laughed it off, and then I saw you that day in the coffee shop…"

"You saw me?" she squeaked. Edward didn't seem to hear her.

"… and you were so beautiful, I just knew. I knew it was you. Alice was right. Fucking conniving little sprite is always fucking right. I wanted to talk to you that day at the parking garage, and when I waited for you to come out of work that day, but there were always so many people around and, goddamn it Bella, I'm proud. I didn't want you to shoot me down in public," he stopped pacing and leant against the counter opposite, hanging his head with a defeated sigh, "I'd rather you humiliated me in your kitchen, if that's alright."

"You want me to… reject you? In my kitchen?" Bella couldn't even begin to get her head around anything else he'd blurted out.

Edward nodded mutely.

"Why?"

"So I can lick my wounds in private?" he offered without looking up.

Bella quickly shovelled the not entirely disturbing images that conjured up to the back of her mind for later analysis.

"No, I mean why do you want me to reject you? That is, if you're offering."

"I don't want you to reject me," Edward frowned at her then, like it was her logic that was somehow skewed, "and yes, I am offering. I've been offering since the night we went out. I've never held somebody's hair back as they threw up on my shoes and thought it was _cute_ before. I just can't figure out why you'd want _me_."

For a brief, shining moment Bella fought the urge to laugh herself stupid, and then reality came crashing down about her. So she did the only thing she could do.

She crossed the kitchen in two strides, and threw herself at him.

New Bella set off the fireworks.

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**At last! Is it all plain sailing now for emo!Edward and schizo!Bella? Our surveys say 'uh… probably not.' ;)**

**Next time: The truth about James's testes, Jasper looks hot in uniform, Bella learns some home truths, and Alice gets to design underpants. It's all go in Seattle, bbs!**

**P.S. To my reviewers: I cannot express how much I love you guys. Thank you for making my day. Special thanks to Sophia24 and mad4life who, I _think_, have reviewed every chapter. Your dedication astounds me!  
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	13. Battle

**AN: In which Bella plays dress up.**

**Forgive me readers; I know not what I do! I'm so painfully British…**

**ETA: I have a website! Sort of. See my profile for the link, from which you can see pictures of like, random Counterpoint related shit. :P  
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**Chapter 13 – Battle**

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**If we get much closer, I could lose control  
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**And if your heart surrenders, you'll need me to hold**

**Pat Benatar – Love is a Battlefield**

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If Bella had any idea how she'd got there she would have replayed the memory over and over on every cold, lonely night for the next fifty years. She had no clue though, so she was able to put all her energy into the moment.

And what a moment it was.

"This is not," panted Edward between kisses, "quite how I imagined this."

Bella growled in response, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist. Edward obliged her silent demand, and pulled her closer so that his whole upper body was pressed against hers.

"You imagined this?"

Edward sighed, stopping his kisses briefly to rest his forehead on hers.

"God. God, you have no idea."

She was sat on the chopping board with a knife block digging into her back, but she wouldn't have cared if she'd been sat on the actual knives. Edward had put her here; Edward, whose lips were on hers and whose hands were in her hair. He turned his attention to her neck and she mewled pathetically. Dignity was right out the window. All she cared about was getting closer to him, touching him, having him touch her with hands that felt like silk. She should find out what soap he used. No, no she shouldn't. That would be weird. His hands left her hair and slipped under the edge of her sweater, and she gasped into his mouth. Edward smiled against her lips.

"Cold?"

"Guh."

Words were pointless. All she wanted was for him to move his hands – higher, lower – to just stay on this worktop forever. She was lightheaded from lack of air, but that was a minor inconvenience compared to the painfully slow movements of his fingers on her back. Kissing Edward was electrifying. Bella felt every nerve-ending flare into life - simultaneously too much and nowhere near enough. The heavy burn she barely remembered radiated out from the pit of her stomach, and with her legs wrapped tightly around his middle, she knew Edward felt the same way.

It was no good.

For a woman whose entire sexual existence before that moment could be adequetly summed up with the word 'meh' the feel of him, hot and willing, was enough to tip her over the edge into madness. She had already hoisted her sweater half over her breasts before Edward managed to pull away.

"What are you doing?"

Edward's eyes bulged comically. Bella looked from his suddenly very pink face down to the exposed lower section of her depressingly plain t-shirt bra.

"I'm getting naked." she said, like she wasn't stating the blindingly obvious. Instead of encouraging her to continue, or, preferably, giving her a hand, Edward swallowed hard and dropped his hands by his sides.

"I'm sorry." Bella whispered, her heart feeling like it was rising up in her throat to choke her.

_You've done it now, stupid girl. Why did you have to push it? Now he'll think you're some sex-starved, desperate, pathetic…_

"No. No, no, no. Don't be." Edward ran a hand through his hair, closed his eyes, and gave her a half-smile, half-grimace, "It's just that, well, this _really _isn't how I'd imagined _that_."

Bella blinked rapidly. The thought that Edward might have imagined just kissing her had been odd and a little bit thrilling, but the realisation that he may actually have imagined anything more than that sent a bolt of desire right up her spine.

"Oh. You imagined… okay." Bella swallowed thickly and tried to force the desire in her chest to subside, "I guess, I guess you're right."

"I'm glad one of us thinks so." Edward smiled wearily, but still didn't open his eyes.

Bella reached up to touch the stubble on his jaw; he turned his hand into her face like a contented cat.

"What's wrong?" she whispered; her voice unusually husky.

"Bella, if I look at you in that state I will rip that outfit all the way off and fuck you over the kitchen counter so hard that you won't walk for a month."

Bella looked down at herself, and was surprised to see that she still hadn't covered herself up.

"Oh…"

She tugged self-consciously at the edges of her sweater, and Edward – relieved – opened his eyes. Without even thinking about it, she lifted it back up.

"Bella!"

She laughed – which was also weird, what was going on with her? Surely she should have keeled over with embarrassment – and straightened the sweater properly, running her hands through her mussed hair afterwards to try and project an image of demure respectability.

"Okay, okay. Sorry. It's probably for the best. I sort of borrowed this outfit from your mom."

Edward laughed a full on belly laugh unlike anything she'd ever heard from him before. He reached around her to smooth her hair where it lay loose down her back.

"I'm not sure what to do with that information."

For a moment the two of them just smiled insipidly at each other, neither speaking nor moving, but just content to be touching each other. It was the sort of scene that would have made Bella gag when Jasper and Alice were involved, but there was nothing uncomfortable in being lie this with Edward. He was the first to break the silence.

"So…"

Bella giggled, copying his tone and the way he drawled out the 'o'.

"So…"

Edward stuck his tongue out at her, and for the first time Bella could really, truly see that he was Alice's brother. They may not have shared blood, but they did share a learnt habit of immaturity. His face turned sober again quickly though, and he cupped her face in both his hands willing her with his serious look to listen carefully.

At this point, Bella would have listened to him read Gaskell's 'North and South' over and over again for the rest of time.

"Look, Bella. This is pretty weird, right? So I'm thinking lets go out somewhere – eat something nice. Just hang out, and try to get through an actual date without fighting, vomiting, or nudity. Would you… like that?"

He looked so adorably staid that Bella could help teasing him. It was either tease him, or swoon in his arms.

"No nudity?"

He rolled his eyes, but pulled her close again so that he could kiss the side of her neck softly.

"I'm thinking only of your reputation."

Bella squeaked.

_Fuck reputation_.

His kisses continued down her neck and then he was pushing the sweater to one side to kiss along her collarbone. Bella groaned, and Edward laughed quietly into her skin.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No, I'm encouraging you to answer me."

Bella buried her fingers in his hair and sighed.

"Well, I guess it'll do. When?"

Edward pulled back again, his expression all seriousness again,

"I'm working right through for the next week. Would Friday next be okay?"

Bella was hardly going to turn him down – wild horses in the high waters of a frzen over hell couldn't have kept her away from him – but she couldn't help balking at the day. It was only Wednesday, after all.

"That's… more than a week," she said in a small voice, chewing on her bottom lip.

Edward sighed, and went back to stroking her hair.

"Believe me when I say that I'll wish every moment past as quickly as possible. I'll make it worth your wait."

She couldn't help the pleased smirk that made its way onto her face.

"Promise?"

Edward licked his lips, and she was quite sure he'd done it on purpose.

"I swear it."

He leant back in towards her, and, just as his lips touched hers, his sock began beeping.

_Wait, what?_

Bella and Edward both stared gormlessly at his right foot for a moment before Edward reached down and tugged a small silver cellphone from inside his sock.

"You keep your phone in your sock?"

"I'm pocket-less," he pointed out, before reading whatever his phone was announcing, "I didn't particularly want to add insult to injury by being mugged for it while I slept on your hallway floor like a hobo."

His face fell as he read his message, and a deep crease formed across his forehead.

"Oh for fuck's sake… I've got to go," he shoved the phone back into his sock and kissed her once, hard, on the lips, and then painfully softly on the back of her hand "till the Friday, love."

Bella nodded mutely. She watched him leave, and she dreaded to think how pathetic she looked, because she felt like some sort of lost puppy. It was almost shameful; her college women's studies professor would probably have exploded with apoplectic rage at the way she was moping after a man that, really, she barely knew. What she did know, though, knew more certainly than she'd ever known anything before, was that the desire that had thrummed through her at his touch hadn't disappeared. Instead it had just grown, changed, and, as he'd shut her apartment door behind him, it had converged on her heart to fill her with a tingling ache.

"Friday next." she told herself, throwing herself onto her sofa with a cusion over her face, "Friday _next_."

As soon as her wobbly legs solidified enough to support her she was going to go for a very, _very_ cold shower.

* * *

"So? What do you think?"

Bella racked her mind for a reply; thoughts were pretty thin on the ground right then.

The woman at the door looked like Alice, spoke like Alice, and even did a very Alice-sque spin, but there was no way Alice would go out dressed as a toilet roll cover.

Was there?

Bella wrinkled her nose and put her head on one side, trying to see if there was a joke she was missing. Alice beamed happily up at her, wearing a canary yellow, high-necked dress with puff sleeves and probably the largest skirt Bella had ever seen. It was so large that it reached from one side of the hallway to the other – Alice looked like she was being eaten by it.

"What is this? Opposites day? Are you feeling alright?"

Alice pouted.

"I feel just fine, thanks. It's my civil war costume, do you like it?"

"It's certainly… impressive, Alice, but why do you need a costume? Jasper's the one who's dressing up today. We're just going to watch."

"Ah ha!" crowed Alice, "That's what he thinks too! But I think Major Whitlock needs a southern belle to come home to, don't you?"

Bella turned her head to examine the dress from another angle, squinting.

"If you say so. Can I… not be seen with you?"

Alice put her tiny hands on her hips, where they were immediately consumed by the skirt.

"Not a chance, Swan."

She reached for something just out of sight behind the door. Bella began backing nervously away down the corridor.

"No. No way. Is Jasper some kind of nineteenth century pimp? He does not need two of us dressing like freaks."

"No self-respecting southern girl would be out without a chaperone Bella!"

As Bella kept backing up, Alice gained on her, holding a dress bag that was taller and wider than she was. Bella made the sign of the cross with her fingers.

"Back, witch! You won't be working your magic on me today."

Alice cackled evilly.

"You're not taking me alive!" Bella squealed as she was backed into the living room.

"Oh come on!" Alice wheedled, "You _owe_ me!"

"I do not!" hissed Bella as Alice backed her up to the sofa, "In what possible way do I owe you anything?"

"I didn't come bursting though the door the other day when you were dry-humping my brother on your countertop."

Bella blushed furiously.

"Why would you even _want_ to do that?"

"Ah," Alice wagged a finger at Bella, it was all that could be seen of her behind the dress bag, "the point is that I could have done. And would you even be trying to rip his pants off without me? Come on, please?"

Bella sat back on the sofa with a huff, admitting defeat.

"Alright, alright, do your worst. But may I remind you that the only reason either of us are dressing up like prize idiots is because I met Jasper first."

Alice dropped the bag on the floor, and clapped her hands with delight.

"This is going to be so much fun!"

* * *

"Oh yeah, fun. That's the word."

Bella sat in the passenger seat of the Porsche, arms folded on top of her suddenly heaving bosom. Well, sat was probably not quite the right word. It was more like she'd been unceremoniously stuffed into place; the billowing skirts of her green dress had risen up to block her view out the windscreen and the handbrake was digging into her thigh. Alice finished tucking her dress under the steering wheel and rolled her eyes.

"You were the one who didn't want to take the truck."

"I said I couldn't drive in this get-up, that doesn't mean I was suggesting you could."

Alice turned and scowled in frustration.

"Would you rather walk it then?"

"Alright!" Bella raised her hands defensively, "Keep your corset on."

"It will be fine," Alice gunned the engine, "trust me."

They were almost taken out by a semi as soon as they left the car park. Alice didn't seem to mind, bursting instead into a high warbling rendition of 'God save the South'. Bella banged her head repeatedly against the headrest and wished for death.

This had already been the weirdest week of her life so far, and since pretty much every day since she'd arrived in Seattle had reached def com 10 on the weird scale that really was saying something.

She'd dragged herself into work on Thursday; the beaming smile that had been emblazoned over her face ever since Edward had left only marginally dimmed by the prospect of what awaited her. She needn't have worried though. Heidi had been positively subdued; Laurent had mumbled a slightly insincere sounding apology; and James had completely ignored her. His slight limp almost made her feel guilty, but then the memory of his sticky hand on her skin popped up to sully the memory of the way Edward's hands had felt: cool and soft and perfect. She must have been cracking up, because the spoiling of her Edward induced haze snapped her out of her guilt trip quicker than any moral issues could have managed to.

In the meantime, Alice had turned her musical talents to 'Aura Lee'.

"Do you mind? Your humming is killing my buzz."

"Well if this is you buzzed, I'd hate to see you in a mood," Alice sniffed, and then giggled, "You're not thinking NC-17 thoughts about my brother again are you?"

"No," said Bella in mock disgust.

She smiled devilishly at Alice's reflection in the rear view mirror, "I was actually thinking how satisfying it was to crush James Shotton's testicles."

Alice pulled a face, but a smile was tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Please. That's a mental image I could have lived without."

Bella prodded at her breasts where they were escaping from her bodice.

"Would you prefer me to regale you with tales about your brother's balls instead then?" she tried to tug te front of her dress up, "Hey, Alice, are you sure this cleavage is historically accurate?"

"Call it artistic license. Trust me, no-one will mind, and I know Edward. The only balls of his you'll be seeing this side of Christmas are baseballs."

Bella felt the blood drain from her head and into her feet, leaving her light-headed and woozy. Of course not, had she forgotten who she was? Why _would_ a man like Edward want her like that? She was plain, and dull, and useless, and he was…

Without taking her eyes off the road Alice took one hand off her steering wheel and smacked Bella smartly around the back of her head.

"Get that idea out of your head right now. I've seen where that sort of thinking will take you and it's nowhere good, that's certain. Edward doesn't assault woman he doesn't fancy in food preparation areas."

Bella nodded quickly, unconvinced but hoping to avoid another smack.

"Your problem is that Edward is a _gentleman_," Alice sneered the word, "You'll spend your evenings swooning over the sight of each others ankles like a couple of Victorian maiden aunts if he has his way. I'm actually surprised he didn't follow a declaration of undying love with an extra strong handshake."

Almost without thinking about it, Bella leapt to Edward's defence.

"There's nothing wrong with being a gentleman! I rather like it."

Something occurred to her then that Edward had said on Wednesday before she'd jumped him and his touch had wiped all other concerns from her head.

_When _they_ came home._

She stole a sneaky glance at Alice.

"So, Jasper isn't a gentleman then?"

Alice kept staring straight ahead, but smiled wickedly.

"He's exactly as much of a gentleman as I want him to be, and no more."

"Give me strength," sighed Bella.

She whistled 'Battle Hymn of the Republic' for the rest of the trip.

* * *

"Isn't he the most handsome thing you ever saw?"

Bella and Alice were stood on the edge of an extremely muddy field, pretending to watch whatever battle the soldiers were attempting to recreate. Bella was slightly more interested than Alice in the technicalities; she was keeping count of how many 'killed and wounded' were lying on the battlefield scratching their asses, or picking their noses. One particularly bored-looking victim who'd taken one for the team early on even appeared to be reading a book. Alice, on the other hand, probably wouldn't have noticed if he'd stripped off and danced the hula. All her attention was focused on the dashing figure of Major J. L. Whitlock as he lead his 'battalion' from one end of the field to the other, occasionally stopping to fire smoke pellets at other groups of men.

Although it probably made her terminally uncultured, Bella couldn't help but see it as an Amish game of laser-tag.

Jasper did look very debonair in his uniform with his mop of hair tucked neatly under his kepi, though. He directed his group of men smartly, and with the set of authority in his shoulders, in fact, he almost looked like he'd been born for this. Bella wondered why he hadn't gone into the modern army. Maybe tanks and automatic weapons just weren't his thing.

"He looks very smart," she told Alice honestly, "but do you have any idea what's going on out there?"

"Not a clue," Alice pouted, "I kind of want to start cheerleading for him though. Is that wrong?"

"Slightly more historically accurate than my breasts, I imagine."

"Give it a rest, Bella. That Sutler's looking at you like you're the finest salted meat this side of the Mississippi."

Sure enough, a middle aged man in a Sutler's costume was leering at her over his cart. Bella blushed and tried to block his view with the parasol Alice had insisted on buying. Alice smiled politely and waved at him.

"Why are you doing this?" Bella hissed.

Alice shrugged her shoulders.

"I thought that if you could see that other men find you attractive, you wouldn't find it so unbelievable that Edward does."

"I don't find it unbelievable. I just…"

"Just what?" asked Alice and new Bella together.

"Don't believe it?"

Alice sighed and threw her arm around Bella's waist – squeezing with a surprising amount of strength for one so small.

"Oh, Bella. What are you going to do with you?"

"Well judging by the way things have been going so far 'torture me till I give in' seems popular." Bella cut her eyes sharply at the drooling Sutler.

"Over dramatic," grumbled Alice, just as Jasper and his group passed close to the audience's cordon.

Alice gave up on berating Bella in order to jump up and down in excitement. The group fired their pretend guns again, and Alice sighed into Bella's arm.

"He's so perfect."

"But not the perfect gentleman," added Bella, "I mean… have you two… you know?"

Alice raised an eyebrow.

"No, I don't know."

Bella shuffled uncomfortably, only too aware of the Sutler listening in.

"You know. It."

"It? What the fuck? What are we, twelve? Are you asking if Jasper and I have had sex?"

"Uh, yeah," Bella blushed. Talk about inappropriate moments for TMI.

"We have made love," said Alice in a mock snooty voice, but her face was alight with happiness, and truth, and something Bella couldn't quite place.

"Do you love him then?"

Alice's expression became one of utter disbelief.

"Ah, now it comes out. You _are_ functionally retarded."

"Ha, ha, ha."

Bella screwed her face up as she tried to come up with a way to phrase the questions running round her head without arousing Alice's suspicions.

"Does it _burn_?" she blurted, her head and heart heavy with the memory of electric touches.

Alice looked at her like she'd completely lost her mind.

"It's not cystitis, Bella," she said, aghast, "and if it's _burning_ you need to get to a clinic."

Bella elbowed her in the ribs.

"Not the sex you idiot. Being in love."

Alice gave her the shrewd, calculating look that Bella was learning to dread. Whenever Alice looked like that it meant she was plotting something unnerving.

"Do you have something to tell me?"

Bella scowled.

"Answer the question, Cullen."

"Well," Alice tipped her head to one side, and tapped her chin with a forefinger, "I guess it's a little different for me than it would be for, say, you. I've known that Jasper existed and that we were meant for each other all my life."

"You what?" Bella blinked rapidly. One day perhaps she'd have a clue what it was that went on in Alice's head.

"I've 'seen' Jasper all my life," Alice curled her fingers either side of her face for emphasis, "long before I came here, long before Esme and Carlisle took me in. I've always known him; he's been the missing part of my soul for such a long time…" she patted Bella's arm gently, "I put all my trust in destiny, Bella. You're going to have to get some in yourself."

Bella smiled down at her weakly. _Easier said than done_. Alice winked and turned back to where most of the combatants were either dead or dying now.

"And for the record? Burning is a pretty good indicator."

Bella sighed, but she felt more resigned than distressed. Maybe Alice was right about more than Jasper's existence, and maybe the burning did stand for more than her slightly disturbing urge to get into Edward's pants.

Fortunately, before she could analyse that slightly worrying prospect any further, distraction arrived in the form of a long note on a bugle. Jasper, as one of the few confederate troops still standing, threw up his hands in a symbolic surrender. The dead started staggering to their feet like a field of historically accurate zombies.

Bella laughed at Alice's disappointed pout.

"You don't have to be psychic to know his side were going to lose, Alice."

"Not every battle!" Alice whined.

Bella ruffled her hair. Alice batted her hand away with a growl.

"Come on Alice. We _are _in Washington. Union victories are probably more their thing."

Jasper looked even less chuffed than Alice as he stomped over to join them. He was shooting filthy looks at two men in Union grey who were congratulating each other as if they whole thing hadn't been choreographed from the start.

"Fucking Farbs, no idea what they're doing" Jasper scowled after them as they disappeared into the tented village, and then turned a glare of purest bile onto a man who had just put on a suspiously modern looking pair of glasses, "I'll bet his underwear isn't even authentic."

"And yours is?"

Bella found the way Jasper's chest puffed out with pride at her words distinctly unnerving. Alice lay a soothing hand on his arm and wrinkled her nose at Bella with distaste.

"Sure it is. Those seams took me hours."

Bella wondered if any of the pervy Sutler's less creeptastic associates sold enough bleach to cleanse her brain of the image of Alice measuring Jasper for his super accurate underwear. Was _that_ what love was? Making a man a purposefully itchy pair of underpants so he could spend his weekends running about with a bunch of other guys in uncomfortable undergarments?

This love business wasn't as glamorous as the movies made out, obviously.

Alice slipped one arm through Jasper's arm and the other through Bella's as they made their way over to the 'camp' that had been set up.

"I was born a hundred and fifty years too late," complained Jasper bitterly, "I would have been able to complete that pincer movement and halved the casualties easily."

"Alright, Stonewall. Hold that thought until the south rises again will you?" Bella smirked at him over Alice's head.

Jasper stuck his tongue out at her in a very un-soldier-like manner.

"Watch that mouth, Miss Swan, or when that time comes your name will be on _the list_."

"Ah," sniggered Bella, "the very model of a modern major-general."

Jasper looked over at a large man with an impressive moustache who sat, smoking a pipe, outside one of the small canvas tents.

"I wish. Not by a long shot," Jasper said, releasing Alice's arm and bending to kiss her hand, "but speaking of the top brass, if you lovely ladies will excuse me…"

He strode off to have an intense conversation with the pipe smoking man. Alice beamed after him like he'd hung the stars.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Alice asked, without peeling her eyes away from Jasper's ram-rod straight back.

As was often the way hen Alice went off on one of her tangents Bella wasn't sure if Alice was talking to her, herself, or one of the voices in her head.

"Figured what out yet?"

"That funny feeling in your stomach; the one that's making you feel giddy and sick at the same time and only comes up when you think about my brother."

Bella felt her cheeks burning; stupid, psychic friends. Couldn't they keep their noses out of peoples business now and then?

"Not following you?"

Edward wasn't the only Cullen to talk in riddles it seemed.

"Silly Bella; whether that feeling is love!"

"Christ, Alice. Just because your life is turning into some cheesy straight-to-DVD romance doesn't mean you have to foist the same fate on all of us."

It was funny how well Bella had trained herself in the art of denial. She'd always been able to fool herself even when she hadn't been able to pull the wool over Charlie, or her semi-incompetent wild child of a mother, Renee. Her internal poker-face was her best asset in the same way that her external one was her worst.

Alice blew her attempt away with wave of her dainty hand.

"Bullshit," she said in a rather less dainty tone, "you get this freaky glazed look in your eyes whenever he's mentioned."

"Oh hello, Mrs Pot; Mrs Kettle here! You're looking particularly _black _today!" Bella spat, jerking her head angrily in Jasper's direction.

Alice's hands were swallowed once more by her voluminous skirts as she stared Bella down with one raised eyebrow.

"Have you ever been in love, Bella?"

Bella opened her mouth to come up with an appropriately smart-assed reply, but Alice pre-empted her.

"Not had sex, you assured us all in no uncertain terms the other night that your hoo-hah is open for business…"

"Alice!"

"…I mean, actually in love? When your heart beats faster just because they're in the room, and you know when they're around without having to see them because you can almost taste their presence in the air. Have you ever felt like one touch from someone could make your veins run dry and your heart explode?"

"I think you need a cardiologist."

"Bella! Stop being such a bitter old woman. Life isn't giving you lemons, it's giving you grapes! Get to bottling the bubbly!"

Alice's face was flushed with the passion of her speech, and several onlookers were watching them warily and backing nervously away.

"Alright, Dr. Phil," Jasper came back up to them and kissed Alice gently on the crown of her head, "let Bella make her mind up on this one on her own."

"I'm just trying to help," Alice batted her eyelashes pitifully at Bella, "because Ed's a hermit and wouldn't know how to talk to a girl if I gave him a cue card."

"Oh ye of little faith," smirked Bella, insanely pleased to have something to spring on Alice for once, "because now you mention it I think it's fair to say that my sensations are heightened whenever your brother's around, and, not only did we hold a whole conversation, he asked me out. We've got a date. On Friday."

Alice squealed; Jasper applauded solemnly.

And because she was feeling inconceivably brave for somebody dressed up like a wingless fairy in a field full of questionably sane strangers Bella sucked up every last ounce of her courage and asked the bravest thing she'd ever dared:

"So, Alice, will you take me shopping?"

Alice's cries of delight were so loud, so heartfelt, that they must have echoed across the sound to a small town on the Olympic peninsula.

That would have explained what happened next.

* * *

**DUN DUN DUUUUN!**

**Dictionary stylin':**

**FARB: A derogatory term for a re-enacter who is not as historically accurate in their costume / behaviour as some others (the ones using the term). At least, that's what my research has lead me to believe!  
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**Next time: Rosalie Hale is a bridezilla ice-queen from hell, right? Right!? Oh, Emmett. D:**


	14. Stranger

**A/N: In which Rosalie and Emmett deal with the fallout of a love story gone wrong. Ouch. **

**This writer's block is a doozy, so if this reads a little forced? That's, uh, because it is. Sorry guys. Also, warning: this is not a funny chapter. Rosalie and Emmett are fuck ups.**

**Disclaimer: I am without ownership, and without money of any sort. Go to Ms Meyer for that stuff.**

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**Chapter 14 – Stranger**

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**You've got a hard way about you**

**For someone whose passage is already paid**

**- Dashboard Confessional – Matters of Blood and Connection**

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Almost all little girls daydream, at some point in their childhoods, that the King and Queen of some mythical land will one day ride over the horizon to reclaim their lost princess, and take her away from a life of drudgery forever.

For most children it's a fantasy inspired by Mom's particularly prolonged room-cleaning demands, or that boy in third grade who tripped them over on purpose. _Most _girls out grow those fantasies by the time they start junior high.

Not Rosalie Hale.

Of course, it didn't help when the benevolent royalty of the fairytale were real, your own Godparents in fact, and you were forced to watch through the bars of your gilded cage as they swept around the country rescuing other children and never coming for you.

No matter how gilded a cage it was, it was still a cage. She was still stuck.

Rosalie stared at the book in her hands; the words blurring and blending together meaninglessly. Stupid fucking fairytales. She had a sudden intense urge to throw the book out of the third floor window and watch it sink to sodden obscurity at the bottom of the pool. Only a small warm hand on her arm stopped her.

"You don't have to read to us if it makes you sad, Rosie."

She beamed brightly at Bastian's pale, drawn little face. Nicolas, curled up at the end of his brother's bed clutching a worn blue blanket, looked up at her with wide, worried eyes.

Shit, she must be getting bad for the boys to notice. She made a point of always putting a smile on for the two of them, especially since they were the only people in this house that she didn't want to kill with a shovel. They couldn't know that. All little boys should love their mother, after all.

_All mothers should love their children._

"You know what guys? I'm real tired tonight, can I take a raincheck on…" she checked the cover of the book for the first time, "… 'Astrosaurs' until tomorrow night?"

A book about fucking space travelling dinosaurs was sending her into pits of morbid despair? She really did need to get the fuck out of there.

Bastian nodded seriously, and Nicolas made a valiant attempt to cover his disappointment.

"Come on, baby. Let's get you to bed."

"Aw Rosie, do I have to?"

Nicolas looked between Rosalie and Bastian with wide eyes clutching his blanket tightly under his chin.

"He can stay. I don't mind," said Bastian seriously.

Rosalie sighed. If Bastian kept frowning like that he'd have botox worthy wrinkles before his tenth birthday.

"Come on Nicky. Bed."

He didn't protest – the Hale children had all learnt that to argue was a pointless waste of time before they were even out of diapers – but he gazed pitifully over her shoulder at the room he and his brother had shared for six years as she carried him off to his new 'own' room.

Like most decisions in this house, splitting up the boys had been their mother's idea.

"_Bastian is heir to this house_," she'd said, "_the company, everything we have. It's time he became an adult._"

Most of the time Rosalie couldn't be sure if her mother really believed that they existed in some kind of 1920's timewarp, or if her plans to drive a wedge between her children were just becoming more surreal with age.

Nicolas watched Rosalie carefully as she took her time tucking him into bed and fussing over his nightlight. If she took long enough she could perhaps put the rest of this night off forever, and then things would never have to end.

"You're going out again aren't you?"

Rosalie stopped dithering to lovingly stroke the hair off his forehead.

"Maybe, Nicky."

"It's alright," he smothered a yawn in his blanket, "I won't tell."

They shared a strikingly similar smile.

"I know, baby. I know."

With the boys safely in bed Rosalie found herself suddenly desperate to get out of the house. Her mother was already halfway through a bottle of vintage sherry in her sitting room, and probably at the point where she wouldn't notice if Rosalie began climbing the walls. She could see her father, his greying head bent over the desk in the study, as she dashed down the hall to her own room.

Poor Daddy.

He'd never been a doting father, exactly. When Rosalie has been young he'd been too full of drive and ambition: busy building a fortune. Now he was too busy losing it to notice the sons he was supposedly working so hard for. Daddy hadn't been _bad_, he barely knew his children after all so how could he know how miserable they were? That was the logic behind Rosalie's deep and abiding hatred of her mother after all: Marguerite _knew_ how unhappy she made her children. She simply didn't care.

Too much thinking on the subject of her mother only made Rosalie madder. She tore open the door to her wardrobe and rifled through the piles of discarded clothes at the bottom till she came up with an oil-stained pair of Levis and a Bellevue High t-shirt that looked even older than the decade it was. Throwing them on she turned her attention to her looks; roughing up the golden curls that she'd spent hours perfecting that morning and scouring her face clean of make-up until her cheeks shone pink and raw.

Most girls would have preened and primped for hours for a night like this. They'd go out with their layer of war paint firmly in place and made sure to choose an outfit guaranteed to make any man weep with longing. In fact, the women Rosalie found herself associating with nowadays would cross the road to avoid her if they saw her looking like this. Royce would never be able to pick her out of a crowd.

Perfect.

* * *

The door was unlocked, of course.

No matter what time of day or night she appeared she always found the door ajar for her. Once, a very long time ago now, she'd pulled him up on his pathetically lax security and he'd laughed that deep belly laugh that always made her smile in return.

"_Rosie_," he'd said, "_how can I lock the door if there's ever the possibility I might lock it on you?_"

He could have locked the door on her years ago. Probably should have, for both their sakes, but he never had. That was just the sort of man he was, the sort of man she, shallow and cowardly as she was, could never hope to deserve. The sort of man she should have loved. Did. Would.

The smell of the workshop assailed her senses as the door clicked quietly shut behind her and she breathed it in greedily: oil leaks, burnt out clutches, and the noxious remains of a microwaved pepperoni pizza. She closed her stinging eyes and commited it to memory. If this was all she would ever have, then she would treasure every last moment.

"Hello, Rosalie."

He stood at the threshold of the workshop from his office, still in a suit and tie that almost forced the traitorous tears out. Who'd have thought that a smart suit could be such a perfect reminder of what had changed?

"Were you expecting someone else?" she asked with a haughty toss of her hair that she immediately regretted.

"I don't expect anything," he said without moving any closer, instead he just watched her through narrowed eyes, his strong arms folded over his chest, "but I would like to know where you get off on being rude to my friends?"

"What?" he perfect brow puckered in confusion, "You mean Cullen? You know perfectly well that Cullen and I have being bitching each other out since he stole my He-Man lunchbox in third grade."

"No, not Edward," he took a step closer to her but didn't unfold his arms, "Bella, and Jasper. Bella's a good kid. I haven't quite decided about the Whitlock boy yet, but neither of them deserved your attitude. Especially not Bella, and especially not so that you can carry on some stupid-ass blood feud with Eddie."

Rosalie cast her mind back to the last time she'd seen him, that day at her Aunt Esme's. She remembered the sickening feeling in her stomach when she'd realised that he was there, and the way that the corset in her dress had choked her when his expression had sucked all the air from the room. Had there been somebody else there? She thought she remembered a dishevelled cowboy type, and there _had_ been a girl there, mousey and plain enough to escape any real attention, but then Edward had looked at her as if she were his raison d'être and Rosalie had been forced by habit to throw some off-handed insult her way.

"It was nothing personal," she shrugged. She hadn't come here to discuss Cullen's dubious taste in women after all.

"You called her a whore!"

"Did I?"

She twirled a blonde curl around her finger, and gazed up at him through innocent blue eyes. One side of his mouth twitched slightly.

"Are you seriously playing the dumb blonde with me, Rosie Lee?"

Despite her heart seizing as it always did when she heard that silly childhood nickname, Rosalie giggled and sashayed a little closer.

"What's the matter, Emmy-bear? Don't you like it?"

Emmett unfolded his arms with a sigh and a shake of his head.

"Not especially. It kind of reminds me that no matter how much you might dress like we're back in High School, we're not." He looked her in the eye with an expression so tortured that she physically staggered back, "I don't even know who you really are anymore."

Rosalie sucked a breath sharply through her teeth, and lifted her chin proudly. This wasn't how this was meant to go down, but she would be damned if she'd let him see her cry. _No-one _saw Rosalie Hale cry.

_Except for that one time, of course. Obviously; the tears had been over him. Weren't they always?_

Emmett seemed to realize that he'd touched a nerve, because he reached out a cautious hand as if to touch her despite still being practically on the other side of the room still.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding genuinely contrite, "that didn't come out right. I know you're doing what you need to do."

Another dark look passed over his face before he spoke again.

"Speaking of which; how is the family?"

Rosalie sniffed distastefully, but lowered her chin and relaxed her tense posture.

"Pretty much the same as they were last time you saw them."

Emmett smiled. It was strained and small, but it was a smile that Rosalie remembered from her childhood and made her heart swell with a familiar, aching longing.

"I don't know… I was kind of distracted. Honestly, Nicky might have grown a second head and I wouldn't have noticed."

Grateful for the attempt at levity, Rosalie managed a smile of her own.

"Well, there've been no mutations as far as I've seen. Daddy's still up to his eyeballs in debt recovery ops, Bastian and Nicky have separate bedrooms now, and Mother is still…" she shrugged, "Mother."

"Well that's just one of the constants of the universe isn't it? The sun will rise, the tides will turn, Rita Hale will always be a crazy ass bitch."

"Ain't that the truth," drawled Rosalie, and the heavy, sad atmosphere seemed to lift.

Emmett beamed. He shucked off his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves above his elbows.

"Alright, Miss Hale. Fancy tuning my engines?"

"Why Mr McCarty," Rosalie leant up against a nearby soft-top, "I thought you'd never ask."

As she slid under the body of the car with his booming laughter in her ears, Rosalie Hale was genuinely, perfectly happy.

* * *

**Columbia University, NY.**

**Four Years Earlier.**

Summa Cum Laude.

_Summa Cum Laude_.

Clapping her hands and squealing Rosalie looked more like an overgrown, extraordinarily beautiful kindergartener than a Columbia medical graduate.

"Thank you," she gasped, grasping her Godmother's hands in hers, "thank you so much. I could never have done this without you."

Shaking her head slightly Esme Cullen reached up to straighten the tassel hanging down the right hand side of Rosalie's graduation cap.

"Nonsense," she said, "it was all you, sweetheart. We are all so very proud of you."

Behind her, a beaming Carlisle nodded his agreement; Edward offered her a mocking little bow, but even that couldn't dim her joy. Harvard's results had come out a week before Columbia's: his degree didn't have those three magic words on it. No, not even Edward Cullen's snarky attitude could spoil today for her.

"Where's Emmett? Is my Dad here?"

Esme and Carlisle exchanged a look that made something in her chest freeze up.

"Is there something wrong? Is he alright?"

"Your father is quite well."

Rosalie actually flinched. That was not a voice that she expected to hear at her graduation: her mother had made it quite clear years before that a girl of Rosalie's status and beauty had no need of useful education. She might have thought, momentarily, that maternal pride had finally squeezed its way into Marguerite's frozen soul, but after 22 years Rosalie knew there had to be a catch.

"Why are you here?" she spat, ignore Esme's disapproving look.

Marguerite looked her only daughter's graduation robes up and down with a sneer plastered on her face. Bastian was toddling along at her side, trying to avoid being whipped by her coattails in the strong winds. Behind them, a worried looking Alice Cullen was bouncing little Nicky on her hip.

"I'm here to let you know what your…" her mother's face scrunched up unattractively, "_friend_ has done."

Eyes wide, Rosalie looked frantically about her for Emmett's imposing figure: he was nowhere to be seen.

_He woudn't miss this. He would _never_ miss this_.

Seeing the panic in her eyes, Edward offered her a small smile that might almost have been sympathetic. Oh it was bad. It was really, really bad.

"Now, Marguerite," Carlisle was using his soothing 'doctor' voice. _Incredibly_ bad, then, "it's hardly Emmett's fault."

At the sound of his name Rosalie's heart stopped, and then began again four times faster than was natural. She wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like.

"That's crap, Carlisle, and you know it. Your father," she pointed accusingly at Rosalie, "invested an incredible amount of money into Mac McCarty's business. He was a common upstart but he was also a talented man. The company has been going downhill ever since he died, but _your friend_ insisted we keep up the investments. Well, now they've gone bust. And they'll take us with them!"

"What?" Rosalie looked to Esme for help, but she was avoiding her eyes – her brow puckered with concern, "But Emmett doesn't have anything to do with his dad's business, it's his brother… It's Elliot you want to blame, not Em…"

"Do I _look_ like I care which of those wastrels holds the cheque book, Rosalie?" Marguerite took a step forward and Bastian cringed back in alarm, "You've had your own way for too long. I let you come here, I put up with this ridiculous palaver, I've even allowed that boy in my house, but no more, do you hear me? I can't believe he even had the cheek to come here today!"

Rosalie span round desperately, but her mother grabbed her arm hard and dragged her back to face her.

"Don't bother looking for him. I had security escort him from the premises."

Over her mother's shoulder, Rosalie saw a thunder-faced Edward stalk off – presumably to his best friend's rescue. God, she hated that boy, but at that moment she might have kissed him in relief.

"And Rosalie?" her mother jabbed one perfectly manicured fingernail into the centre of her chest, "If I _ever_ catch you fraternising with a McCarty again, this family will be dead to you."

Baby Nicky began to wail in Alice's arms.

* * *

Finishing on her third engine of the night she wiped the oil from her hands onto the thighs of her jeans, and pretended not to notice the way his eyes followed the movement.

"I guess it'll be time for you to be getting back. Your Dad will be rationing your Mom's sherry with the way things are at the moment."

He winked at her, looking absurdly like an overgrown kid with his shirt untucked and stains on the knees of his smart trousers. She barked out a false little laugh.

"Oh I wouldn't count on it. She'd pimp me out to the highest bidder before she let bankruptcy fuck with her sherry supply."

"Bit late for that, isn't it?" his face drained of colour as her look dropped to the floor, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."

"No," she said, her voice traitorously choked, "you're pretty much right."

"Why are you doing it then?" Emmett pleaded.

Rosalie shook her head, and parroted the reasoning she'd been given to believe.

"I have to. For the boys; for my daddy. If I don't make the perfect little trophy wife then what becomes of them?"

"You don't actually believe all that 'for the good of the family' crap do you? Christ, Rosie, your mother isn't the mafia. So what if your dad loses some cash. It might actually be good for them," without her realising, Emmett had moved so that he was just inches in front of her. With a gentleness out of place in such a strong man he lifted her chin so that she was forced to meet his eyes, "money isn't everything. It isn't anything at all, not really."

"I know," she whispered.

She knew that Royce's investment in her father's banking business was crucial to its survival.

She knew that both her brothers would be better off if it went under and they were freed from the pressure to be tiny businessmen and allowed, at last, to be children.

She knew the way that Royce looked at her – a piece of meat to be tossed aside or presented on a silver platter depending on his mood – sickened and scared her in equal measures.

She knew that she loved this man; this man who held her face so gently in his large hands and looked at her as if she were the most precious thing in his world. That she'd loved him since the day in third grade that he'd leapt between her and Edward as they'd fought and had refused to take Edward's side; friendship be damned.

Oh God, she knew.

Emmett sighed: a man forced to ask a question he didn't want answered.

"You're still going to go, aren't you?"

Willing herself not to cry, Rosalie nodded bluntly.

"And you're not coming back. This was the last night, wasn't it?"

Pointless fucking tears spilt down her cheeks then. It was all pointless. Why had she even come here, other than to torture herself with his proximity and pathetic wishes for what might have been?

"Oh, Rosie."

He pulled her into a smothering embrace and she sobbed pitifully into his chest, her fists clutching at his ruined shirt.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed.

"What for?" Emmett's voice was strained, "For leaving? For marrying King? What exactly are you sorry for, baby?"

Peeling herself away from his chest, Rosalie forced her eyes to meet his. She'd been expecting to see accusations, or anger, but instead Emmett's eyes were almost as teary as her own. Something cold and hard seemed to strangle her heart.

Junior year, they'd snuck into the shop class garage late one night – her scrubbed clean of make-up in jeans from Gap; him with too much product in his hair and wearing his letterman jacket – and he'd held her like this, told her things she'd never quite expected to hear and her world had expanded to a bright, brilliant place. A place where Emmett McCarty loved her, and she loved him, and the whole universe could never tear them apart.

She should have stayed that girl. She couldn't. She wished she had.

"I'm sorry," she pushed away from him, her eyes dry and cold again, "for not being the girl you thought I was."

His arms dropped to his sides in defeat as she turned to leave, and in her intense desperation to get out of his garage without breaking she almost missed the last thing he said:

"You're still the girl I love."

The diamond on her finger mocked him as she closed the door behind her.

It stayed locked.

* * *

**Ouch. That was a painful one folks. Will need a rewrite if I ever get this behemoth finished! I need serious inspirational help if I'm going to get next chapter out in a hurry! Damn writer's block. ;)**

**Next time: Pervy bosses, the law, frozen pea triage, and a man who just can't take no for an answer… Bella and Edward have a date! What could possibly go wrong**

**Mine is an evil laugh… :D**


	15. Confession

**A/N: Nothing I can say will make up for the hiatus, so have a chapter and a promise that the next two are already written. I'm sorry, and I appreciate every one of you who comes back to read more! Happy New Year!**

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**Chapter 15 – Confession**

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**Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.**

**Oscar Wilde – The Picture of Dorian Grey**

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"I really think there must be some mistake."

"Oh no, dear heart. No mistake at all!" Aro crooned, curling one claw-like finger under Bella's chin; she bit the inside of her lip to keep from cringing.

This was not the start to her Friday that she'd been hoping for. Her heart had been fluttering ever since she'd woken up and the constant state of nervous anticipation she found herself in had already been making her feel nauseous before she'd set foot in the Times building. When Aro had waltzed into the office and called her over to him she'd very nearly had a full blown heart attack.

He hadn't fired her though, as she'd been momentarily frightened of. No, he'd done something worse. Much worse.

Bella Swan, new girl and general office outcast, had been promoted.

"Isabella," said Aro to the thunderous faces of her co-workers, "has shown more dedication to this paper in the short weeks she's been here than you have in months! You should endeavour to follow her example –"

"Fuck a Cullen?" spat Heidi.

"Now, now," soothed Aro, "jealousy is most unbecoming of a pretty girl."

He patted Bella on the head as though she was a faithful puppy of some kind, but Bella wasn't offended. Despite the (sadly) false nature of Heidi's accusation she could see where it was coming from. She edited horoscopes and the recipe pages for God's sake. How could she possibly be showing excessive, promotion worthy levels of dedication? The only thing she'd been showing true passion for lately was watching Edward Cullen's backside and –

From the depths of her blazer pocket came the tinny chimes of the Mexican Hat Dance. Bella squeezed her eyes shut.

And that.

Avoiding Jacob's calls had become a full-time job of its own over the last few days, almost as if he'd been tipped off that there was hope of a real-life relationship on the horizon for her he'd decided to do his civic duty and stalk her like a crazy person. From across the room, James was looking at her; his eyes almost red with hatred. If only Jake knew her quota of lunatics was quite full enough at the present time.

"Do you need to take that my dear?" asked Aro in his creepiest grandpa voice.

Bella shook her head mutely and fumbled in her pocket till she hit the cancel button.

"Excellent!" Aro waved cheerily to Heidi, Laurent and James, all of whom looked like they would happily murder him and dispose of his body in acid, and grabbed Bella firmly by the elbow in a manner reminiscent of her very first day. "Let's go get you settled in your new home, Isabella!"

She was almost sorry to hear the door to the office slam shut behind her.

The feeling didn't last long.

"Caius! Caius, please meet your newest employee!" Aro pushed her forward through the rows upon rows of desks in the main editing room towards an angry looking man with a perfectly groomed beard who sat at a dais at the end of the room like a king upon his throne.

As she passed several of the staff stopped typing away to peer at her over the top of their computer monitors. One young blonde girl stood with a clipboard and shadowed her every move with narrowed eyes, eventually coming to stand alongside her as she and Aro reached the dais.

Aro presented her to Caius with a swooping arm motion.

"This is Miss Isabella Swan! I am sure she'll make a wonderful addition to your team!"

Caius glared at Bella down the length of his nose. She opened her mouth to ask him to call her Bella, but then thought better of it.

"You should know," he said in an oddly gravelly voice, "that this room is a fortress." Bella blinked. "Nothing that occurs in this room is let out to the outside world, we operate in perfect secrecy. Do you understand me?"

Bella hesitated, unsure of exactly what he was going on about. "Uh, yes?"

Caius twitched. "We'll see," he said, "we have ways of dealing with those who cannot obey our rules."

Bella's eyebrows lifted and she took a tiny step backwards. Aro beamed at her, and the blonde girl took a vice-like grip of her upper arm. She felt like she was being inducted into some rather dangerous cult.

"Show Bella to her desk, Jane dear!" cooed Aro as if this was a perfectly normal office indoctrination, "I'm sure she'll want to get started right away!"

Dragged to her new desk in silence, Bella tried to focus on the fact it was Friday. Eight hours till Edward.

Even the freakiest newspaper job in the world couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

* * *

"I'm so excited! I can't believe this is actually happening!"

Bella 'hmmphed' in agreement from somewhere under the mountain of shopping bags she was lugging up the two flights of stairs to their apartments. Behind her she could hear Jasper cursing the building superintendent and the 'fucking pile of shit fucking fucked-up lift' as he struggled with Alice's excessively numerous purchases. Bella had queried why one date of hers necessitated _Alice_ buying a whole new wardrobe, but she'd been answered with a tirade of such length and ferocity that she'd allowed Alice to buy her two pairs of skyscraper heels as a peace offering.

That was a pretty weird peace offering, now she thought about it.

Alice was bounding up the stairs ahead of them, occasionally turning on the spot to look down on Bella's red, sweaty face peeking out from behind a Nordstrom bag, and then squealing with unrestrained glee.

"Do you ever think," Bella gasped as she leant against the wall to catch her breath, "that your interest in your brother's love life borders on the unhealthy?"

Alice rolled her eyes and scoffed loudly.

"Oh please. That's such an only child thing to say. I want my brother to be happy; I want you to be happy. Am I not allowed to be happy at the prospect of all this happiness?"

"Your mind is a happy place indeed, but it's only a date Alice."

Bella heard Jasper suck a sharp breath in through his teeth. Alice raised one perfect eyebrow.

"No," she said with perfect confidence, "it's not."

She back on her heel and floated up the rest of the stairs, forcing Bella and Jasper to half jog in order to catch up.

"Will you stop antagonising her?" hissed Jasper, "Do you have any idea how much this shit weighs? How can such small clothes be so heavy?"

"Save it!" snapped Bella as the floor thankfully levelled out and she staggered to her front door.

"You brought it on yourself!" he called after her as he lurched unsteadily past her door.

Bella groaned, and, scattering her purchases around her like a designer Catherine wheel, threw herself down on the sofa. Her pocket began playing the Mexican Hat Dance almost immediately. Without even looking at the screen she launched it against the opposite wall, where it fell silent with a satisfying 'Clunk'.

"Fucking leave me _alone_!" she forced the heels of her hands into her eye sockets in an attempt to stave off a growing headache.

"Not a chance!" piped up Alice cheerfully from far too close by.

Bella lifted one hand from her face to see Alice's hands just inches away, proffering painkillers and a glass of water. Bella's fight or flight response couldn't figure out whether to take them and be thankful or to make a bid for freedom over the back of the sofa before Alice could catch her.

"Option one's your best bet. I'll catch you in the end anyway, and it'll be better for all of us if we do this the easy way."

Alice tapped her tiny foot as she spoke; her face a picture of determination. Suitably cowed, Bella took the tablets.

"I don't know what kind of system for shoes you've got in there darlin'," said Jasper as he came in, now mercifully free from his cargo, "so I left them in the boxes."

Alice smiled at him gratefully, and began rubbing at where the bags had left red marks on his forearms. He looked over at Bella and gave her an exaggerated wink.

"You looking forward to tonight, Miss Swan?"

Bella grunted, laced her fingers together and stared resolutely at her fingernails.

"Don't show too much enthusiasm, will you?" groused Alice.

"Sorry. Sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

Alice and Jasper exchanged a look and sat either side of her.

"Is it over the promotion?" Jasper asked after having been filled in on the Seattle Times' latest HR experiment while Alice tried on Jimmy Choo's.

Bella shook her head.

"No, not really. I think I've already learnt my lesson about mixing work and pleasure. I'll deal with that shit on Monday."

Alice nodded in the direction of Bella's phone, now lying face down on the carpet some distance away.

"Is it your mouthbreather?"

Jasper looked from Alice to the phone and then back to Bella with raised eyebrows.

"Is somebody causing you trouble, Bells? D'you want me to have a word?"

"What sort of a word?" asked Bella with a small smile.

"How about 'dismember'? I kinda like that one," Jasper grinned.

Alice tutted under her breath.

"_Boys_."

"Well thanks Jazz, but it won't be necessary. It's just an old friend from back home who's got a bee in his bonnet over something. He'll get bored and give in eventually."

Alice's forehead creased up, and she appeared to be concentrating very hard for a moment before shaking her head and standing up – dragging Bella up with her.

"Come on, let's get you changed. Jazz, make yourself scarce for an hour – a woman should never share her beauty secrets!"

"Good luck tonight," Jasper gave Bella a kiss on the cheek, "_try_ and relax long enough to have fun."

"Har-de-har," Bella waved him off and allowed herself to be led away by Alice who was already jabbering on about shades of blusher.

She left her phone where it had fallen.

* * *

"So where's he taking you then?"

Bella found herself sat, once again, in front of the bedroom mirror as Alice fussed around her with curlers, straighteners, and a powder brush larger than her head. The butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach that morning had grown to the size of Canada geese.

"No idea," coughed Bella from beneath a cloud of face powder, "he didn't say. Surely you've figured it out?"

"Not likely," pouted Alice, now running the straighteners through the back of Bella's hair, "he hasn't told me anything."

"I meant… you know…" Bella waved her hands either side of her face and wriggled her fingers.

"It doesn't work like that," sighed Alice, "trust me, I _really _wish it did."

Half to distract herself from the swirling sensation in her stomach and half out of genuine curiosity Bella asked:

"So how does it work?"

"Well," Alice cocked her head to one side and frowned slightly, "things tend to come in flashes. I _can_ force them sometimes if I concentrate on something hard enough, but that's rarely the clearest way to see. In fact, often things just come to me and I don't even know why. Recently I've been dreaming about a blonde girl who really, really needs some help – but I can't even see her face. I mean…" Alice laughed shortly, "Talk about unhelpful. A psychiatrist would have a field day with that one."

Privately Bella was of the opinion that Alice would, in general, be a psychiatrist's wet dream.

"No clues then?"

"Not really," said Alice, "she's always expensively dressed, she's being forced into something against her will and I have the weirdest feeling that I should know her, but I don't. I know if I don't figure it out, though, she'll meet a nasty end."

Slightly disturbed by the morbid turn of conversation, Bella studied her cuticles.

"Maybe you should send out a warning through the society pages," Bella said, half to herself, "start with Rosalie Hale, she's rich and blonde, after all."

As soon as the words left Bella's mouth Alice's jaw went slack, her eyes unfocused and her hand jerked on the straighteners, nicking Bella's ear.

"Ouch! Alice!"

"Oh my God! Oh my _God_!" she whispered, her eyes still glazed over, "that's it! Why didn't I see? Oh Bella, you're brilliant!"

"Alice!" Bella hissed, her face unattractively puce, "My ear's burning!"

"Don't be so modest."

Alice continued staring off into the middle distance.

"No! Literally!" Bella slapped ineffectually at Alice's hand.

With a gasp and a wild "_Fuck!_" Alice dropped the straighteners on the table and moved quickly to examine the damage. Bella watched with consternation in her reflection as Alice revealed an already red and swollen left ear lobe.

"Man, that's going to blister."

Bella fought the urge to drop her head into her hands and cry.

"I cannot go to dinner with peas on my ear. Well, maybe if it were pot luck or something, but still, Alice."

Alice, who had got over her initial horror quite quickly, swept another dusting of blusher over Bella's cheeks, being careful to avoid the large bag of frozen vegetables that was currently clamped to the side of her head.

"The peas are a temporary measure. Just remember not to pop your blister into his soup and you'll be fine. Men don't generally judge a lady by her earlobes on a first date; and as long as you don't draw attention to it he'll never know."

"Well thank you, Miss Manners. I'll keep that advice in mind."

Alice stuck her tongue out and thrust a pair of moderately heeled black shoes at Bella.

"Wow," Bella struggled to take them and keep the peas tight to her ear, "I might just remain upright of my own accord in these. To what do I owe the honour?"

"They're a 'sorry I burnt your ear in the middle of a psychic vision' present. Now accept them graciously!"

Bella opened her mouth to protest – why was Alice annoyed when she was the one who'd had her ear seared? -, but before she could speak a courteous knock came from the front door.

Bella dropped the peas in alarm; Alice kicked them out of sight beneath an occasional table.

"Okay, stay cool," said Alice, smoothing the satin of Bella's suddenly daringly red shift dress and moving her hair to disguise her wounded ear.

"Sure, cool. I can do cool."

Bella pushed her shoulders back and marched towards the door with Alice scampering a couple of paces behind her.

She opened the door, and was ashamed at just how quickly her knees went weak.

Edward after some decent sleep in a bed, freshly shaved and smartly dressed was such an improvement on the dishevelled man she'd jumped in her kitchen a week ago that her fingers clenched reflexively on the door edge.

He even _smelt_ like sex on legs.

"Hello," Bella gasped out, sounding a bit like an asthmatic mouse that had just completed a marathon.

"Hi," said Edward, "you look stunning."

The timbre of his voice made her toes curl and the pain in her ear dissipate almost entirely. Behind her, Alice squealed out an unintelligible greeting.

"And hello to you too, little sister," Edward raised an eyebrow at Alice and then turned his attention entirely back to Bella, "she hasn't been giving you too much trouble I hope?"

Bella scoffed. "Her ability to plan a shopping trip with quasi-military precision doesn't scare me."

"You're a braver woman than I, Bella Swan." He held out an arm to her, "Shall we make a move?"

Nodding mutely, Bella hustled Alice out of her apartment and into the corridor. As she reached round to lock her door, Edward draped his suit jacket over her shoulders.

"It's a little chilly out there," he said.

Alice looked ready to burst into tears of joy.

"I thought maybe we could go out for dinner and then see where the night takes us," said Edward as he led Bella out to the parking lot, "is that alright?"

"It's fine," Bella shivered slightly in the cool night air and concentrated on keeping her voce as steady as possible, "do you have anywhere particular in mind?"

Edward looked down at her, and she willed her saliva glands not to humiliate her with a torrent of drool. His face was serious, and the shadows from the fluorescent street lights cast his eyes into shadow. He looked different, a little bit wild, or dangerous maybe. Bella shivered again, but this time it wasn't from the cold.

"Actually, I do. It's a bit quirky, though. I hope you like it."

He gave her a hesitant little smile and she managed an impressively relaxed smile back. Edward seemed even more nervous than her, if that was even possible, and even though she hadn't the faintest idea why somebody like Edward Cullen would be nervous about going on a date with someone like her, she wasn't beyond using his nerves to make her feel more confident. She even managed a reassuring squeeze of his hand as they approached his car on the far side of the lot

"I'm sure I will."

* * *

"Oh. Dear."

Eventually, Bella was sure, there would come a time where she wouldn't begin hyperventilating at every little surprise Edward threw her way. Surely one day, if he didn't run screaming for the hills beforehand, she'd be able to take this kind of thing in her stride.

Edward was watching her warily from the driver's seat.

"Are you okay? You look a bit pale."

"I'm… fine. Just fine. Super!" Bella tried to smile up at him, but it must have looked at least mildly deranged because he only raised one eyebrow at her in response before turning his attention back to the road.

James. Bond's. Car.

Damn Jasper to hell for telling her about it in the first place. As if she didn't have enough to deal with tonight without adding the fact that her date was James _fucking_ Bond into the mix. She spent most of the journey avoiding Edward's sideways glances and trying not to vomit on his plush leather interior while he hummed along with the radio. It was sort of soothing, listening to his voice without being expected to make conversation, and by the time Edward pulled into a parking spot her heart rate was back down to normal and she could touch her face without giving her fingers third degree burns.

The restaurant was a kooky, family-run little place with an excellent choice of seafood on the menu and, to Bella's great relief, a vast selection of wine. Sitting AT the table with Edward she just about managed to resist tipping the whole bottle down her throat. Instead, she sipped delicately at the glass he poured for her.

"Ooh. I'll be honest, I needed that."

"Rough day, huh?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that most of your shifts make my very worst day look like a cakewalk."

"I think you've been watching too much Grey's Anatomy. Hospital life isn't as thrilling as you might think."

"Well, firstly I was feeling all nervous about a date with this really hot guy…"

"Hot guy, huh?"

"Yeah, he's my neighbour's brother. Maybe you know him? Green eyes? Really nice…"

_Don't say ass. Do not say ass._

"…hair?"

To Bella's great satisfaction, Edward blushed.

"Go on…"

Bella curled her hair self-consciously around her finger and sighed self-deprecatingly.

"So I got to work this morning already on edge and find the Editor-in-Chief in my office. Five minutes later it turns out he's promoted me over the heads of everybody else and I'm moving to a new department."

Edward's grin lit up the room. Bella could have sworn a woman somewhere to her right swooned at the sight of it.

"You got promoted already? That's brilliant, Bella!"

He reached over the table to squeeze her hand and the swooning woman swore violently just loud enough for Bella to hear. She looked down self-consciously at their entwined hands and willed her palms not to sweat.

"Yeah, you'd think so. If I thought I had the co-workers from Hell before they've got nothing on this new bunch. I'm surprised they don't swing upside down from the rafters and only come out at night."

Edward laughed. Bella didn't think he'd find it quite so amusing if he'd been on the end of Jane Morris's cruel glare.

"Then, to top it all off, I get st- phone trouble, taken shopping by a fashion dictator midget, and almost lose an ear."

All laughter disappeared from his voice then, and he lifted his hand from hers and made as if to brush the curls back from her injured ear. Without even thinking about it, Bella reached up to swat his hand away and stopped herself just in time. Instead her hand hovered insipidly in mid-air.

"What happened to your ear?" Edward asked with a doctor's concern.

"Nothing! Nothing, really. You don't want to know." Bella pulled her hair further over her wound and began pointedly stirring her soup. "This is the point where you tell me how many lives you heroically saved today while I weep quietly into my very delicious soup."

The stunning smile returned as Edward leant back in his chair, folded his arms and watched her with an expression that was almost sly.

"I'll take a rain check. I prefer hearing about you."

_My least favourite subject_, she thought bitterly, but she gave him an attempt at a winning smile.

"That's hardly fair."

_And you're much more interesting_.

"Oh go on then. Ask a question if you must."

Though she should have started on the safe ground of favourite colours and choice of baseball team, her curiosity got the better of her.

"Okay… so how do you know Emmett? And Rosalie? She doesn't really seem your type, if you know what I mean?"

Immediately blushing out of fear she'd offended him, Bella concentrated on her soup as he answered.

"That would be because she's most emphatically not. Esme and Carlisle are her Godparents. Carlisle saved George Hale's life after a heart attack, and his reward is to be forced into associating with Rita and her stuck-up daughter for the rest of his days. Emmett and I met in Elementary school. I guess you could say that I've always had a tendency to take myself too seriously; Emmett couldn't take something too seriously if he tried."

"So he's not your type either?"

"Guess not, though if it came down to him or Hale, I do generally prefer brunettes."

Bella blushed so furiously she could see the reflection of her cheeks shining from the spoon she held.

"My turn!"

"Already? How's that fair?"

"Easy, you ask one, I ask one. Technically I let you have a free one just then."

"Okay, fire away."

"What was your college major?"

"Literature. I minored in Classics. Dartmouth had a great journalism course that I dabbled in too."

Edward raised his eyebrows and let out a low whistle.

"Wow, Literature at Dartmouth. Not just a pretty face then."

"Hardly," Bella snorted, concentrating very hard on the back of her hand and willing her ears to stop flaming. Blushing this much was hurting the blister. Against the protests of her internal tee-totaller she took another un-ladylike gulp of wine.

"I see I'm going to have to practice getting you to take a compliment."

"Do you have to?"

"Yes. My turn!" Edward clapped delightedly.

"That's cheating!"

"All's fair in love and war."

Bella raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of her wine glass "And twenty questions."

"Of course. So, Bella, what is it you want to do with your life? Where do you see yourself in five years time?"

"I'd love to work in publishing – being around all those stories, making sure they're told properly. I think I'd really, really love that."

"Career oriented then?" asked Edward seriously.

Bella put her wine glass down and pouted. "That's two… no three! That's three questions!"

"Answer it? Please?"

"Oh alright, yes, I guess so. I suppose having kids and getting married have never really been high on my priority list. Product of a broken home and all that."

Edward nodded, but his face stayed serious. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and began fiddling with it on the table in front of him.

"Do you smoke?" asked Bella with wide eyes. It didn't quite fit in with her image of Doctor Edward.

"Hmm? No. I used to. Weirdly, I find it easier not to if I keep reminders on me. It keeps me focused on not going back to how I was back then."

He put the lighter away and smiled at her, but the combination of wine induced bravery and the opening of a chink in his armour of secrecy meant that she couldn't resist another question.

"What really happened to you, Edward? Your Mom said you wouldn't tell her…"

He closed up immediately, his body language tight and secretive once more.

"Not now, Bella. Maybe one day, but I don't want to ruin tonight. Is that so bad?"

Despite her curiosity his green eyes and bright smile melted any determination she might have had to carry on with that line of questioning. If she was a little more sober she'd probably be kicking herself for acting like such a drip. To compensate she tried for a vaguely meaningful question.

"No. No, I suppose not. So you want to be better… who do you aspire to turn out like?"

"I'm sure it's not your turn any more."

Bella shrugged. "You didn't answer."

"Carlisle, without a doubt. He's the most selfless man I've ever known. Even when he lost his son he took that pain and turned it into something beautiful for two lost little kids with nobody to love. If I can be half the man he is I'll be pretty pleased."

Bella smiled at the pride on his face. "He seems a wonderful man."

"He is. Both my parents are wonderful people. Esme has so much love to give out that she turns everyone she meets into family. If Alice and I hadn't given her so much trouble growing up I'm sure she'd have adopted a houseful of kids." He shook his head slightly as if remembering, but for that moment he didn't look happy – he looked pained. It passed quickly though and he was soon turning that hypnotic smile back on her. "Okay, so you want to work in publishing, your college major was in Literature and you talk about stories like they're alive, so I have to ask: Desert island. Three books. Which ones?"

"What kind of question is that?" snorted Bella, but his foot nudged hers slightly under the table and she sat up in nervous shock, "Okay, okay, Jane Austen's Persuasion, Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden, and something I've never read before."

"Why something you've never read?"

Bella gave up counting his questions and leant forward with a smile. "Do you even know the rules of this game?"

Edward leant forward too, and suddenly his lips were far, far too close for polite company in a public space. "Are we playing games?"

She swallowed heavily. Sirens began blaring from outside. "I- uh… I like… new…. things?"

"Is that so?"

Close, so close. Far too close. Oh bugger it; she never had to come back here.

"I – "

The sirens were deafeningly loud now, and flashing blue lights were reflecting off Edward's face and making him look weirdly ethereal. Out of curiosity, Bella glanced out of the window.

Leading a convoy of Seattle's finest into the restaurant's parking lot was an extremely, horribly familiar cruiser.

"Oh God."

Edward followed her look and laughed. As he was distracted, Bella took the opportunity to throw herself under the table and attempt to conceal herself with the slightly too short tablecloth.

"Someone's in trouble… Bella? Why are you under the table?"

Edward lifted the cloth to look at her and she shook her head desperately. There was the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and a pair of black work boots appeared at the edge of her vision.

"Stand up! Back away from the table!"

Wide eyed and a little bit panicked, Edward extracted his head from under the table and disappeared from sight. Well aware now that the game was well and truly up, Bella shuffled out on her knees, her hands raised in mock surrender.

"Hello Dad."

* * *

Bella folded her arms over her chest and stared through the dividing mesh of the patrol car at her father and Jacob in the front.

"It wasn't what it looked like."

"So you keep saying," snorted Jacob, "did you drop your knife?"

"No, dickwad, I was trying to hide from a crazy man and half the Seattle police department."

"Language, Bella," said Charlie from the driver's seat.

"What, it's true! And Dad! I half expected this sort of thing from him, but _you_!"

Jacob sighed derisively.

"Jake was worried about you Bells. He said you weren't answering your cell, and the receptionist at the Times said she'd never heard of you." Charlie spoke very calmly, but there was an edge to his voice that Bella had rarely heard before.

If Jacob had frightened Charlie for no reason _and_ ruined her date she'd have no option but to kill him.

"That's because she's certifiable Dad. Not to mention I just got promoted over her boyfriend's head," she tried to keep her voice down for Charlie's sake but was still glaring daggers at the back of Jacob's head, "you shouldn't have had to drive across state because of idiots."

"You're my little girl," said Charlie in a matter-of-fact way, "I couldn't have stayed at home."

If she hadn't been boiling with rage in the back of a police cruiser she might have leant in and hugged him.

The James Bond car wasn't in the lot when they got back to her apartment and Bella wasn't sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. The General Lee was there, though, and Bella looked up at Alice' darkened windows with a frown. It was obvious what had been preoccupying all-knowing Alice tonight.

"I'm tired," she told Charlie, "you can sleep in the guest room. He can have the sofa."

She didn't acknowledge Jacob in any way as she spoke, but he was still the one who insisted on talking at her all the way to her front door.

"Don't think this is the end of this. You can't refuse to take our calls and just go off doing whatever you know. You need us, you'll want us to be there when you get bored of this joke and come back to Forks…"

"I'm not coming back to Forks," said Bella, her voice exhausted, "I'm staying here."

She opened the door to her apartment and shut it behind them.

"Don't be an idiot," said Jacob. Bella shook her head slowly and repeated herself like she was speaking to a small child.

"I'm. Not. Coming. Back. To. Forks."

"Now then," said Charlie in his best Chief of Police voice, "don't turn this into an argument."

Something deep inside Bella seemed to snap. "Don't turn this into an argument? _Don't turn this into an argument?_ He has dragged you across state for no reason, made you worry and _ruined_ my date. He's lucky I haven't turned this into a crime scene!"

Jacob rolled his eyes.

"There's still time," she warned him, "don't tempt me!"

"So we interrupted your date. So what. He's nothing special."

Bella spluttered indignantly. "Nothing special? He's Edward!"

"Some hoity-toity rich boy who's only after one thing. You don't want someone like him."

Bella's eyes narrowed and her voice became dangerously quiet; even Charlie took a step back.

"Do not presume to tell me who or what I want."

"I know what you want, Bella, even if you haven't figured it out. You have to come back to Forks and…"

"Get out."

The blood was pounding in her head and she was certain that only the presence of a senior police officer was preventing her from fetching the broom and beating Jacob to death with it. Oblivious, or just foolish, he folded his arms across his chest.

"Not until you admit that you have feelings for me and not some weedy kid."

Bella let out an inhuman roar and began forcibly shoving Jacob towards her door while Charlie pleaded for calm in the background.

"I've never felt anything for you like I feel for him. I could love him, and you're ruining it for me!"

With more power than she though she possessed she hurled him out of her apartment and halfway down the corridor.

"I don't care where you go or how you get there," she yelled after him, "but take a hint and _don't come back_!"

"Wow," said a familiar Texan accent, "you sure are feisty."

Her rage draining into her feet and making her wobbly, she turned to face Jasper and had to lean on the doorframe for support when she saw that he had not one, but two Cullens standing in the corridor with him.

"You," she whispered hoarsely, "how long have you been standing there?"

"Oh ages," said Alice, her eyes bright with excitement, "you're always accusing us of being stalkers you know. I never thought you could make a noise like that! It was amazing!"

But Bella wasn't really interested in Alice's opinion of her weird shrieking. All she was interested in was the look on Edward's face. She'd just practically declared herself in love with him and he looked… he looked cold. It was the face from the photograph, from the night of the kiss outside the bar, and every part of her body that had burned with rage just moments before was now frozen solid. She didn't need to ask how he felt; that expression told her everything that she needed to know.

Without a word to any of them she stepped inside and slammed the door, and to her dad's confusion and despair slid down it until she was sat on her hallway floor.

Only when she heard the slam of Alice's door did she begin to cry.

* * *

**Next time: Can eirabach post a chapter before the next ice age? Will Bella get a grip? Just how much of a masochist is Emmett?**

**I love you, still-reading-people. From the bottom of my cold, writer's-block-ridden heart. 3**


	16. Discerning

**A/N: IT. IS. A. CHAPTER! YAAAY! Okay! **

**Just a warning to you all, the end of this chapter deals (very, very mildly. More mildly than the books, probably) with triggering content. Tread carefully if you're likely to be affected.**

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**Chapter 16 – Discerning**

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**And thus the words were spoken,**

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And this the plighted vow,**

**And, though my faith be broken,  
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**And, though my heart be broken,  
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**Here is a ring, as token  
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**That I am happy now!**

**Edgar Allen Poe – Bridal Ballad**

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For two days Bella had pottered about her apartment trying to put a brave, woman-of-the-world face on for her father whilst he sat, looking over-large and awkward, at her tiny kitchen table and her brains slowly melted into mush.

She hadn't seen Edward since she'd slammed the door in mortification on Friday night, nor had she answered the door to Alice's many hammerings, and after the forty fifth missed call from an unknown number on her cell phone she'd thrown it down the waste disposal.

It had made an extremely satisfying crunch.

The week had begun in much the same way. Her dad had finally gone back to Forks, or to find Jacob, with a furrowed brow and a backward glance and she had thrown herself into the task of editing articles containing more than one paragraph. On Tuesday afternoon she added a semi-colon into a piece on scuba-diving, and before lunch on Wednesday she'd removed thirty two extraneous commas from the sports' pages. All in all it was very satisfying.

Wednesday afternoon, though, her luck ran out.

She was editing the society pages, allowing the minutiae of privileged existence to join the rest of the white noise in her head, when a familiar name stopped her in her tracks and her heart began drumming in her chest.

_Miss Rosalie Hale is the God-daughter of esteemed paediatric surgeon Mr. Carlisle Cullen and was previously romantically linked to his troubled adopted son, Edward._

Irrationally, her eyes started filling with tears as soon as she saw his name. She wiped them away rapidly, and, after checking quickly that none of her charming co-workers were watching, slapped herself extremely hard on the left cheek. It wouldn't do to start getting all hysterical at just the sight of his name. If she kept that up she'd be having a full-on fit if she ever actually saw him again.

Gripping her stub of a pencil overly tightly she read through the rest of the article, trying to concentrate on the grammar rather than on the content of the article. She failed. The article was a typical gossipy piece on Rosalie Hale and Royce King the Third's (the Third was obviously important being as it was used twelve times in total) upcoming nuptials. Their rehearsal dinner was taking place in a hotel the name of which Bella could barely even pronounce never mind afford and they would apparently be inviting a guest list whose love-lives made for fabulous society gossip fodder. Bella's favourite mention was of _Alice Cullen's recent dalliance with an unknown young man, _and she derived momentary pleasure from imagining Jasper's reaction to being in the society pages of the Seattle Times.

"I hope they haven't described me as being '_unfortunately odd'_ this time."

Bella dropped her pencil in shock. Alice leant over the desk towards her, arms folded and nose scrunched up in annoyance. Bella had a primal urge to flee for safety.

"You've been avoiding me," said Alice in a deceptively soft voice, "why?"

"No I haven't," Bella said, trying and failing to meet Alice's eyes, "I've been busy."

Alice's eyes narrowed further. "You fed your phone to the sink."

"Waste disposal."

"Same difference."

There was a moment of silence before Bella spoke again.

"How did you even get in here? Caius is crazy about 'keeping the work environment pure' or whatever secrecy bullshit he's into today."

Despite the rudeness of the question Alice smiled as she shrugged.

"Aro loves me. I go where I want."

As if to prove her point she waved brightly at Caius on his dais at the back of the room. He looked as though he could happily throttle her where she stood. Turning back to Bella, Alice perched on the edge of the desk and swung her feet back and forth.

"I brought you a present," she crooned, "want to see?"

"No?" asked Bella wearily, but Alice was already holding out a thick ivory envelope.

"Go on," she said, "it's just a little thing. Oh, and I might have got you another present that you'll need, but I really need to measure you for fitting because …"

Bella snatched the envelope out of Alice's hand in the hope that it would shut her up, but Alice just carried on blathering about bra cups as Bella opened the letter.

You are cordially invited to

A rehearsal dinner

In advance of the marriage of

_Miss Rosalie Lillian Hale_

Daughter of Mr and Mrs George Hale

And

_Mr Royce King III_

Son of Mr and Mrs Royce King II

Bella dropped the invitation as if it had burnt her.

"No."

"Oh come on!" wheedled Alice, "You've avoided us all week, this is the least you can do."

"Has it occurred to you that I might be avoiding you because I don't like plying third wheel while you and Jasper gradually become the world's weirdest conjoined twins?"

"What makes you think you'll be third wheel?" Alice seemed slightly taken aback.

"Do you want me to be on Emmett suicide watch then? Because I can take his shoelaces but I'm pretty sure he can take me."

Alice threw her head back with a theatrical sigh and slammed both hands down on the desk.

"Turn it over, you imbecile."

Unwillingly, and with a strong sense of dread, Bella turned the invitation over. There, in red ink and handwriting that seemed vaguely familiar, was a message.

_I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Please come._

_Love,_

_Edward _

_X_

Bella blinked rapidly as the letters seemed to swim in and out of focus. The back of her throat felt suddenly dry.

"It says love," she croaked.

"Like I said. Imbecile." Alice said. Her megawatt smile was back.

* * *

"So this isn't going to be awkward in the least."

Alice blotted her lipstick and turned to face Bella, her golden dress shimmering around her.

"Frankly Bella even I would rather be buying jeans in Wal-Mart than dealing with this shit, but I'm afraid we have to."

Jasper shot Bella a sympathetic look. He did look more than faintly ridiculous in a bow tie, but at least he had Alice on his side. Alice's love for her brother meant that if anything went wrong again tonight Bella was pretty sure Alice would turn Team Edward without a second thought. Tonight was certainly going to be a challenge. Still, she could do civil right? Maybe even do friends if she avoided looking at his too-perfect face.

Even Bella's forthcoming attempts at damage control, though, paled into insignificance next to Alice's latest guest list titbit.

"I don't get it though," Bella continued, "why would Emmett subject himself to it? Why would they even invite him?"

"Because," said Alice, as she reached into her handbag for hairspray to give her pin-curls a final spritz, "Rita is both a bitch and a snob. The McCarty's are still well regarded and she'd be expected to invite Leonora at least. The fact that she also gets to flaunt Rosalie's marriage in his face is a delightful bonus for her."

The limo drew to a halt in front of a fair-sized crowd with cameras, and a rather regal looking red carpet.

"Have I been nominated for an Oscar?" asked Jasper with some confusion.

Alice squared her shoulders and reached for the door handle. "Ignore them. Pretend you're a hot Donald Trump."

She opened the door into a blinding wall of flashbulbs. Jasper followed her, his confusion and embarrassment well covered by his natural charisma and handsome smile. Bella, on the other hand, remained frozen in the back of the limo.

"Miss? Miss you need to get out."

Despite the fact that the driver could barely see her she shook her head furiously. Only terrible things could come from stepping out of the limo, not least a vaguely Lindsay Lohan like wardrobe malfunction.

She knew she should have worn bigger underpants.

Then _he_ appeared at the limo's door, flashbulbs creating a halo around his head and making him look like some bizarre patron saint of the paparazzi.

"Are you alright?" he asked as she cowered pitifully on the far side of the car, "Come on, and take my hand. I won't let any of them hurt you, Bella." And as she allowed Edward Cullen to lead her from the car and down the red carpet to the hotel entrance she almost believed him.

* * *

Once they'd made it to the relative safety of the lobby Bella felt her panic from the limo recede, only to be replaced with the now familiar feeling of dread she was learning to equate with fancy functions. Or maybe that was just fear of humiliating herself further with Edward. He held her gently by the elbow as they drifted around to where their group were standing.

Esme Cullen gave her a gentle, motherly hug and enquired after her father which resulted in Bella getting flustered and muttering some nonsense about his health and the unexpectedness of his visit. The hand Edward had on her elbow shook slightly as she spoke, almost as if he was laughing. Bella couldn't be sure though as from the moment he and his irritatingly angelic countenance had appeared at the end of that red carpet she'd managed to avoid looking at his face.

She didn't look at him as she flushed at Carlisle's uncalled for praise on her promotion, managed not to catch his eye as Emmett – jolly and effusive as ever but with suspiciously red eyes – pointed out a seemingly unending list of beautiful, dark-haired older sisters and his one brother, Elijah, who was propping up the free bar under his mother's disapproving glare. She nodded along politely as people she didn't know came up to make small talk with Edward – not that there were many of them. A surprisingly large number of the guests were giving both Edward and Alice a wide berth as though there was something dangerous or contaminating about the both of them. Bella wasn't sure whether to be pleased or distraught at the fact that whatever was repelling them it didn't appear to be her.

She'd been distracted watching one of Emmett's nieces – only a couple of years younger than Emmett himself and born into a marriage made when the McCarty name still carried some weight – floating delicately between guests like the proverbial butterfly, so she missed when the bespectacled, boring man who'd been talking to Edward turned his attention to her. Only Edward's voice roused her from her daydream.

"This is Bella. She's my … Bella."

He squeezed her elbow as he spoke, and as her resistance to his magnetic pull finally failed her, she looked up.

His eyes were dark with some unspoken emotion and there was a little crease between his eyebrows as if he were concentrating very hard on something. Bella was aware on a cursory level that she was gaping up at him like a fish. The boring man mumbled some excuses and shuffled away.

Bella only came around from her Edward induced hypnosis when a short, fat man started ringing a tinny little bell from the foot of the stairs.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he intoned, "esteemed guests …"

Bella caught Jasper's eye and they both stifled a laugh.

"I have the honour of introducing the happy couple: Mr Royce King the Third and Miss Rosalie Hale!"

There was a smattering of light applause as Rosalie and Royce appeared at the top of the staircase and then descended while smiling benignly at their guests. Bella didn't know if the other guests were just showing refined restraint or if they were as unimpressed as she was.

Rosalie was certainly beautiful – even more beautiful than Alice or Esme – but her tightly arranged hair and thick make-up made her look strained and tired. She didn't look much like a blushing bride-to-be, not that Bella much blamed her. Royce King obviously possessed more hair-gel than every other man in the room put together and his head shone greasily in the light of the chandeliers. He had a hand on the small of Rosalie's back but rather than guiding or supporting her it look to Bella as though he was half pushing her down the stairs, and his benign smile, on closer inspection, looked more like a sneer. Bella hated him on sight.

Edward wasn't looking at either of the guests of honor as they began greeting their guests. All his attention was on the other side of the room on Emmett's suddenly white complexion.

"Should we help him?" Bella asked in a whisper.

Edward shook his head slightly as Emmett was approached by one of his sisters and immediately pasted his falsely jovial expression back on.

"The time for that's long gone. I don't even know why he came. I couldn't watch y- the woman I love marry another man."

Bella watched as a group of other women fawned over Rosalie's ring. She looked bored.

"I guess you just need to fall in love with a nicer woman."

"Oh," said Edward with a short chuckle, "no fear there."

Bella's ego flinched, but then Alice and Jasper appeared next to them to her great relief and saving her from trying to come up with a reply.

"Having fun?" Edward asked Jasper with a sarcastic smile. Jasper checked Alice's attention was elsewhere before replying with a grimace.

"I feel like a zoo exhibit. Do private schools not teach that staring is rude?"

Alice was gazing at something in the middle distance with an expression of deep concentration.

"Apparently not," mumbled Bella. Alice shushed her.

"There's something not right. Look."

Rosalie and Royce had made their way over to where the McCarty's, now at full strength even if Elijah did look a little worse for wear, were standing, and separated. Rosalie stood making awkward conversation with Leonora and the closest sister (Verity, Bella thought, but they all looked the same to her) whilst avoiding any sort of eye-contact with a very uncomfortable looking Emmett. Royce, in comparison, had made straight for the niece Bella had noticed earlier and was whispering something into her ear. She laughed, bell-like, as his hand rested on her shoulder. Rosalie didn't react.

"Nothing is right with that picture," said Edward, "the man's crazy for putting himself through it."

"Royce or Emmett?" drawled Jasper.

Edward laughed shortly. "Both."

"Men," scowled Alice, "that's not what I mean…"

Edward elbowed her gently in the ribs as the unhappy looking couple approached them. Royce looked disinterested and was constantly fumbling with something in his pocket; Rosalie looked more like someone walking to the gallows than to her own rehearsal dinner.

"My Godparents' children," she told Royce in a monotone, "Edward and Alice Cullen and their dates. Bella and …" she stared blankly at Jasper, "that man."

Royce didn't so much as look at them which was just as well. Alice looked highly affronted and Edward looked almost as surprised as Bella that Rosalie had remembered her name.

"Thank you for coming," said Rosalie dully before they moved off. Bella and Jasper exchanged a look.

Luckily, before Alice could launch into the diatribe she was no doubt formulating in Jasper's defence the tiny bell-ringing man returned and beckoned the group into a large dining room.

Normally it would have been the hotel's ballroom, but now it was filled with tables to accommodate Rosalie and Royce's many guests. That was why Bella was so horrified to discover that they were to be sitting on the same table as the bride and groom. Emmett and his family were tucked away in a dimly lit corner, presumably at Rita's request.

"How did we end up on their table?" hissed Bella to Edward as he pulled her chair out for her. Royce's expensively dressed and thoroughly botoxed mother attempted a sneer at her from across the table. Edward shrugged.

"Well, I supposed Esme and Carlisle are family of a sort to her."

Bella sat down with an unlady-like grunt which earned her a glare from Rosalie and a giggle from Alice. To her left, Carlisle gave her a sympathetic smile which she struggled to return.

Nobody at their table smiled much, or did much of anything at all. Rosalie's father, the elderly, balding George Hale and Esme managed some light conversation during the starter, but by the time the fish course was served a heavy silence had fallen over the whole table. Bella found herself concentrating unnecessarily hard on not getting red wine down her demure black dress in case the atmosphere itself was thick enough to spill it. She could feel Edward's presence in the seat to her right, his posture rigid, and she saw his fork hand twitch slightly every time the cougar-like Mrs King looked his way. Alice, too, looked unhappy. She was picking vaguely at her food, her expression almost confused.

Jasper caught Bella's eye for a moment and gave her the smallest of shrugs. He couldn't figure out why they'd insisted on coming either.

Bella was just finishing the last of her salmon when Royce pushed his plate away roughly and stood up. Without a word to anyone at the table he marched off in the direction of the restrooms, following the swing of Emmett's niece's curls.

"Oh dear," said Esme sweetly, "I do hope he's not ill."

Edward gave an undignified snort and had to cover it by pretending to choke, but Bella noticed the slight twitch of Esme's eyebrow as she looked at Carlisle and his tiny nod in return. They'd all noticed something very odd going on.

Rosalie stared intently at the pattern on the tablecloth and for a moment Bella though she might cry, but instead she threw down the napkin she'd been holding and stormed after him.

"She'd better not make a scene," muttered Rita darkly.

Edward and Jasper's faces both lit up like a child's on Christmas morning – this would be a drama to enliven the monotony of the evening – but Bella couldn't see it in the same light. Her empathy for others had sometimes led to her being taken advantage of, and Rosalie Hale had done little or nothing to endear herself to Bella, but for all the changes Seattle was bringing to her life she would still never be the girl who took pleasure in other people's misfortune.

This was a shame, because, in her rush to get up and follow Rosalie, she missed Alice falling, unconscious, to the floor.

* * *

_Face and body crushed against the cold tile she tries to beg him to stop but her mouth is too full of blood as he ruins her. His hands are at her throat and as he twists her eyes spot, black and red._

_She sees all her memories, the ones nobody else will care to recall. She sees the curly haired children who will never be. Somebody else is screaming now but she doesn't care. Can't. There's no time anymore._

_She thinks of love, at the end._

_

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**Next time: Well, I'm hardly going to tell you, am I? :D **


	17. Determine

**A/N: In which... nope, still not telling. Sorry!**

**POV switches aplenty lie ahead. Please do try to keep up ;). And, as this chapter carries on from the last, please be aware that there may be more triggering stuff within.  
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**Chapter 17 – Determine**

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**Our times are in his hands**

**- Robert Browning **

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Struggling to her feet, Alice ignored the hands offered to help her up. All she could see, all she could focus on was him as he returned to the table, wiping his hands on his trousers and without a hair out of place.

Everything went quiet, the eyes of the whole room were burning into her, and she took it – took all the power she could from their curiosity – and screamed with an amount of bile that she'd never thought herself capable of:

"You bastard! You _fucking bastard_! You killed her! She's dead because of you and you've _killed her_!"

Through her tears she watched all hell break loose.

* * *

The commotion from the ladies' restroom seemed shockingly loud to Bella after the quiet of the dining table. Emmett's niece had dashed out of there as Bella had arrived, hair and clothes in disarray, and now Bella hovered, uncertain whether to go in or to go for help. The sound of cracking tile convinced her to open the door just wide enough for a peep.

Rosalie stood, chest heaving, in the centre of the restroom, her face red with fury and exertion. Royce was half-dressed. One of his shoes lay beneath the cracked tile; the other was in Rosalie's left hand. Bella wondered if the other woman had super-human powers to throw a shoe with that much force. She was just about to close the door and call in the cavalry when Royce spoke.

"You fucking whore. How dare you treat me like that? Who do you think you are?"

He took a step towards Rosalie, but she stood her ground.

"Your fucking fiancée! And what exactly are you doing calling _me_ a whore? What the fuck were you doing with her?"

Royce laughed, and the sound made Bella's skin crawl.

"You bore me," he said in a low, cold voice, "you've been no fun at all."

So quickly that Bella barely saw him move he flew forward and threw Rosalie to the ground face down, so hard that the sound of her head hitting tile reverberated around the room. Without thinking, Bella threw the door open wide and announced her presence by clearing her throat.

_Only I would interrupt a crime by fake throat clearing. Good going, Isabella. True life crime show here I come!_

Royce looked up at her, and Bella had to suppress the terror in her voice.

"Is... is something the matter?"

Her fingers twitched reflexively as she fought the urge to slap herself. Stupid. Fucking. Question.

Bizarrely, Royce just looked at her quietly for a moment before standing up and fixing his clothes. Rosalie's face remained hidden and Bella's stomach churned at the thought of what she might be hiding.

"No problem here," he said, buttoning his fly as though it was the most normal thing in the world, "don't be long will you?"

He brushed purposefully close to Bella as he left, forcing her to recoil against the doorframe. Rosalie still didn't move.

"Rosalie?" Bella whispered stepping slowly towards her, "Rosalie, are you alright?"

"I'm fucking sunshine," came in a grumble from the ground. Obviously in pain, Rosalie dragged herself to her feet. Her lip was split and blood had streaked up her face and into her blonde curls.

"That was a stupid thing to do," she told Bella gruffly, but the effect was rather spoilt by the tear stains and newly blooming bruising mixing with the old marks that were visible where her makeup had run.

"I know," said Bella because she could hardly disagree.

"Thanks."

Rosalie gave Bella a broken smile that was still more beautiful than any other Bella had ever seen. The surreal bonding moment was interrupted by a series of shouts and screams from the other room. Rosalie looked momentarily relieved before grabbing Bella by the shoulders and shaking her roughly.

"He's a lunatic, and almost every person in that room expects me to marry him regardless, but I'm sick and tired of this whole charade and you're going to help me get out of this."

"I am?" Bella wasn't feeling particularly helpful when her teeth were being shaken from her skull.

Rosalie dropped her shoulders and stared at her. Her lip was beginning to swell and Bella could already see the purple puffiness developing over her cheekbone. She immediately regretted speaking.

"Okay, I am." she said with a note of apology, "How?"

Rosalie eyed the only window in the bathroom and twisted the uninjured side of her face into a smirk.

"How good are you at leg-ups?"

* * *

Edward led the charge into the restroom, followed closely by Carlisle who was supporting a hysterical Alice, and Jasper and Emmett who were dragging a bloodied Royce between them. Bella stood in the centre of the room, hands clasped in front of her, and tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Bella! Bella are you alright? Did he hurt you?" Edward's eyes roved over her looking for evidence of injury and she fought a rising blush.

"Did who hurt me? Nobody hurt me. Nothing… I know nothing!" she squeaked, silently praying that Rosalie wasn't loitering in the alley to overhear her pathetic attempts at lying.

Edward's expression turned from terrified concern to a knowing smirk.

"Jasper," Carlisle said authorativly, "Get him out of here. He can have the pleasure of telling the guests that the wedding's off before the police arrive."

Jasper nodded and dragged a surprisingly compliant Royce out with him. All he did was spit a malicious "You'll be hearing from my lawyers!" at Emmett, who looked immensely pleased at the prospect.

"Alright Bella," Carlisle soothed, "he's gone now. You can tell us the truth."

"I am! Was, I mean. I… I don't…"

"Oh Bells, give it up," said Emmett, "you're a pitiful liar."

Slightly hurt, Bella turned to Edward for reassurance but he just nodded sympathetically.

"Charming," Bella grumbled.

"Oh Bella!" Alice wailed, launching herself between Bella and Edward and sobbing fitfully onto her chest, "Oh you were so brave! He would have killed her, I _saw_ it! But you, you stepped in and saved her! You're a hero!"

"I'm really not," said Bella, patting Alice's head awkwardly as the smaller woman sobbed rather inappropriately into her bosom, "I didn't like, fight him, or anything."

"I did," said Emmett proudly.

Edward gently removed Alice, took both Bella's hands in his and was looking at her in a way that made her feel slightly nervous, so she was glad when Carlisle spoke again.

"Where did she go?"

Bella couldn't quite drag her eyes way from Edward as she answered.

"Out the window."

"And after that?"

"I have no idea."

Carlisle sighed deeply.

"I suppose we had best pray that she knows we will help her if she needs us. Come on Emmett, Alice. Let Edward and Bella have a moment alone. I'm sure the police will wish to speak to all of us.

He chivvied the others out the door and closed it behind him. Bella wondered if this restroom had seen as much action in its whole existence as it had in that one night.

"You know," she said out of a nervous need to lighten the atmosphere, "it seems like all your dates end with cops."

Edward didn't laugh.

"You're not a hero you know," he said, still giving her that strange look.

Bella, not being endowed with much misplaced pride, agreed with him.

"What you are," he continued, "is a prize idiot. He could have killed you."

Bella shrugged and tried not to show how much that same thought was playing on her mind. "He didn't though."

"It was stupid! Why didn't you come and fetch one of us? Or all of us! Why go in there on your own?"

"Because he was hurting her, Edward! I may not have Alice's visions but I _knew_ what was going to happen and I had to try and stop it."

"And if he'd hurt you?"

"I didn't think about it."

Edward dropped her hands and rubbed his face. Bella looked at the floor and concentrated on the smear of blood staining the white tile.

"No," he said, "no, I don't suppose you did. Why have you been avoiding me, Bella?"

"What?" she looked up shocked at his sudden change of tack.

"Ever since your dad and that crazy man came to visit you've been avoiding me. You won't take my calls, you don't answer the door. If you've changed your mind I'll understand but …"

"Wait that was you?" Bella couldn't help the blush this time, "I thought it was Alice or Ja- that crazy man. If I'd known it was you I'd have…"

"Called the cops?"

"No thanks, I've had enough cop-interrupted dates for one lifetime." She smiled at him weakly. "I saw... I guess I thought you didn't like, you know, what I said."

Edward's face twisted in a way that would have made anybody else look like they were constipated. "I'm an idiot."

"I've told you that before," pointed out Bella, adrenaline making her braver than usual.

"And you were right," Edward smiled and stroked the side of her face gently. She felt the blush follow his fingers. "Bella, I wasn't upset with you. I was trying to stop myself sticking my boot so far up your friend's ass he'd choke on it."

The blush spread from her face all the way down to her toes. "Oh," she whispered, "oh, I guess that's alright then."

"So you haven't changed your mind?" Edward actually sounded nervous.

"About what?" Bella could feel her head beginning to ache in protest at the surrealism of her night.

"What you said. I never got the chance to talk to you about it."

_I've never felt anything for you like I feel for him. I could love him, and you're ruining it for me._

"Oh," said Bella. She shuffled awkwardly on the spot, "look, I … may have been a bit over-emotional that night, but the jist of it…" she took a deep breath, "the jist of it is true. Of course."

"Good," said Edward, "because I'd hate to think I was the only one to feel that way."

He kissed her, and outside in the alleyway a stray dog howled.

* * *

Three weeks after she helped Rosalie Hale out of a lavatory window Bella saw her photograph on a milk carton.

It was an odd reunion. Bella had just been about to pour a glass of milk for everybody to go with Esme's home-baked cookies when she'd recognised the stunning girl in the crappy, pixellated image.

"Poor girl," sighed Esme, noticing what had distracted Bella as she began piling cookies neatly onto plates, "why she doesn't just come to us I don't know."

Privately remembering Rita Hale's ability to scare even Esme, Bella was pretty sure she knew exactly why Rosalie hadn't come to them. She looked out the large kitchen window to watch Jasper and Emmett dragging a squealing Alice down to the lake front, supposedly to throw her in although Alice must have seen that Jasper, at least, had no real intention of doing so.

"Call them in will you, Bella, before I have to treat Alice for pneumonia."

Carlisle reached for a cookie as Bella propped the window open to shout the others, only for Esme to slap his hand away like he was a naughty schoolboy.

"You're a terrible example," she admonished him, but seemed to forgive him quickly once he's swooped in to kiss her cheek.

"Can I have a cookie Mom?" asked Edward as he joined them in the kitchen and came to stand behind Bella and slip his arms around her waist, "Since Dad's got one."

Carlisle protested his innocence but eventually gave up the cookie he'd nabbed as he'd distracted her with a kiss.

"Traitor," he hissed at Edward.

Edward just laughed.

Over the past few weeks Bella had often felt the need to pinch herself. Although his deeply unsociable hours meant that her time with him was limited she and Edward had spent every moment they had had enjoying each others company. They would visit Esme and Carlisle, as they were today, or Bella would cook for Edward, Alice and Jasper over at her apartment. Once she'd even gone over to the apartment he shared with Emmett, but every surface had been covered in motor oil and she'd been afraid to sit down. Caius's bizarre rules, Jane's attitude and James' foul glares in the lobby of a morning were nothing compared to the happiness her time with Edward brought her. The only thing they hadn't done was spend much time on their own, and even the joy of days like this was tempered by the thought at the back of all of their minds.

Rosalie was still missing.

As Alice, Jasper and Emmett streamed in like High School kids after a football match and Esme served up cookies and milk like an advertisement mom, Bella's eyes lingered on the fridge door.

She wondered if Rosalie was happy.

* * *

**Portland, Oregon.**

Rosalie was pissed.

They were charging her twenty buck a night for this shithole motel room – not a small sum considering she'd climbed out a bathroom window with nothing but the clothes she stood up in and five hundred dollars stuffed into her bra – and the bathroom looked more like something she was accustomed to seeing on CSI than anywhere she was willing to do her business. Business, though, still had to be done. She hung a small crispy towel over the obvious peephole and began trying to scrub herself clean while touching as few bathroom surfaces as possible.

This was a routine that she'd begun in an even seedier motel a few miles from Tacoma on that first night. That night she'd almost rubbed herself raw to get rid of the stain of his touch and the knowledge of how much worse it would have been if that little brave mouse of a girl hadn't appeared. The scrubbing hurt a lot less now that her bruises were almost gone, but it was still just as through. Until they stopped looking for her she'd never be free of him.

Finally as clean as she was likely to get in that septic tank of a room she paused to check her reflection in the cracked, mottled mirror. Once that would have been just another demonstration of her vanity, but now it was purely practical.

The bruises were fading away to yellowish nothing, but her face was blotchy from chilly nights outside and pinched from lack of food. Her curls, which had once reached halfway down her back, were chopped roughly short and tucked under a (stolen) beanie. Her beautiful dress that she'd spent days choosing had long ago gone in a dumpster. Her clothes had come from wherever she could find them and she'd had a slight giggle to herself when she'd considered what Alice Cullen's reaction would be to her shopping with nickels at a Goodwill. But, tugging at the laces of her men's sneakers in the pit of a motel room she'd spent almost her last money to hire, she wondered who she was kidding.

They'd probably forgotten she'd ever existed.

* * *

"You know," said Alice, gesticulating wildly with her cookie, "what I've forgotten?"

"Everything you learnt in calculus?" asked Edward.

"No! Well, yes, but apart from that. I've forgotten the last time we went camping!"

Bella inhaled a chocolate chunk and had to be saved from an undignified death-by-cookie by way of a rather solid smack to the back from Jasper.

"Camping?" she managed to splutter out. Alice nodded.

"Alice," said Edward, rubbing soothing circles on Bella's back as she wheezed, "we've never been camping."

Alice pouted, but Esme agreed.

"It's true. Remember darling? We tried to go one year and you refused unless you could take three suitcases."

Alice's face clouded even further. "I didn't think it was an unreasonable request."

"We were only going for a weekend, Alice."

"Well anyway," said Alice, waving away her previous opinion like it was an annoying midge, "I think we should go anyway."

"All of us?" Bella tried to stop the tremor in her voice. She wasn't exactly the outdoorsy type.

"Yes all of us," said Alice with the type of conviction Bella had learnt to dread. The all-knowing one had made her mind up and the subject was closed.

"Come on Alice," said Edward with a sideways glance at Bella's horrified expression, "you know I'm working all the hours God sends at the moment."

"So take a holiday. The hospital owes you one and you're not indispensible."

She gave a blasé little shrug and Edward looked rather affronted.

"Ah, but I'm afraid your mother and I are. I'm needed at the hospital and your mother is starting the beachfront St. Anne's property next week."

Carlisle spoke seriously and Bella had no reason to doubt the truth of his words, but she was still surprised when Alice just said, "Okay."

"I think it's a great idea," said Jasper, his eyes shining with what Bella presumed was happiness at the prospect of compass use and wood whittling.

"Suck up," said Edward.

"Spoil sport," replied Jasper, smiling sappily at Alice who smiled just as nauseatingly back.

"Well I reckon it's a good plan too, and I don't even want to get in Alice's pants." Emmett clenched his fists and flexed his substantial muscles. "Nature can't beat me!"

"Ten dollars says that after one night you're begging for your bed back," said Edward with a smirk.

"Oh you're so on."

The two men began an elaborate handshaking ritual with several fist-bumps and half a pint of saliva.

"Alice," said Bella. Alice remained obliviously staring into Jasper's eyes. "Alice!"

"I can hear you," she said without looking away from Jasper, "but I don't want to hear your excuses."

"But Alice," pleaded Bella, "I'm dreadful at the outdoors. If something can cut me, trip me or drop on my head then it will. I'm a health and safety nightmare."

"You'll be fine," Alice dismissed her concerns with another of her little waves, "Remember, I'd know."

"And I'll be there," said Edward, his voice a delicious rumble as he leant against her, "I'll make sure you return in the same perfect condition that you leave."

It was amazing how he could make her swoon even when he was covered in Emmett drool.

* * *

It was pretty amazing seeing your own face on a milk carton. It was also pretty disturbing if you didn't especially want to be found.

Rosalie found herself staring at the grey, out-dated photograph and imagining that she was the counter clerk in this mini-mart, or one of the police officers she'd passed outside the motel. Would they suspect that the grubby, hungry girl in the mismatched flannel was the same as the sneering young socialite on the side of the milk carton? It wasn't the picture she'd choose to represent herself – she felt frighteningly more like her real self now than she had when that photo had been taken – and a part of her wondered who had chosen it. Somebody was looking for her, evidently. It wasn't the only person she wanted to find her. He'd never have chosen that picture.

On a whim that she couldn't really afford she picked up the smallest carton and took it to the counter along with some reduced bread and a tiny block of cheese. The clerk gave her the sort of look she was accustomed to seeing her mother give to trades people.

"That's two dollars ten cents," he said, slowly and patronisingly as if she'd brought a Ming vase to the counter or asked to buy the whole store.

Biting her cheek so as to draw blood from herself rather than from him, Rosalie fished the final dregs of change out of her pocket and counted them out in front of him. He counted them twice more before he gave her the purchases and put the money in the checkout.

She put the cheese in her pocket for later and sat on a park bench to eat her dry roll and examine her own milk carton mug-shot more closely. There was only one person in the world she wanted to look for her, and it appeared that he wasn't the one doing it.

So now what? What was the point in even trying?

* * *

"It's not like I haven't tried you know."

"Oh yeah, you're positively desperate to find her!"

"Now come on, Emmett."

"No! I will not 'come on'! I asked you for help!"

"And we're…"

Hovering in the doorway eavesdropping other people's conversations was something that even Bella's limited social conscience frowned upon, but it wasn't really like she could help it. Alice had dragged Jasper up to the house's copious attic to search for camping equipment and to do whatever else it was that those two did in dark corners. Rather sensibly, Bella had taken a rain check on tent hunting and returned downstairs to find Edward and the others. However, when she had found them they'd been in the middle of what appeared to be rather a large row.

"I have put every ward, every emergency department in the state on high alert!" cried Edward, jabbing his finger towards Emmett's fury-bright face, "What do you want me to do? Wander the streets at night like you do?"

Wringing her hands and half-hidden in the shadows of the doorway Bella was torn between curiosity and panicked escape when Esme, her kind face streaked with tear tracks, turned and held out a hand to her.

"Boys. Boys, please don't fight, you're upsetting Bella."

Emmett gave a small, semi-apologetic shrug and Edward seemed contrite.

"We're upsetting you, Mom. We're sorry."

"Sorry, Mrs C."

Esme shook her head and put on a brave smile. "No, not to me. Apologise to Bella."

Bella stood awkwardly by as Edward and Emmett offered sincere sounding apologies what was, really, her listening in on a private conversation. When she said as much, Edward looked affronted.

"You're part of the family, Bella. You're an automatic part of any conversation we're having."

As weird a declaration as that was, Bella felt the warmth of his words resonating around her insides; Emmett's next words were like an ice bath.

"Rosie's a part of this family too."

He didn't sound angry or accusatory, just sad and a little bit desperate and not at all like the man who'd been cheerfully threatening to dunk Alice and making bets just an hour or so previously.

It occurred to Bella that above all else, Emmett was an excellent actor.

"Of course she is," said Carlisle, putting an arm around Emmett's broad shoulders, "and we are _all_ doing our best to find her."

"That really was the clearest photo I could find," assured Esme.

"And Alice is doing her damnedest, you know that."

All eyes rose to the ceiling then, following the sound of running feet and suspiciously southern sounding girlish squeals. Emmett managed a half smile.

"I know."

"The camping trip is a wonderful idea. It'll help Alice clear her head and give the rest of you a distraction." Carlisle spoke with the certainty of a doctor prescribing a proven cure, but Emmett shook his head.

"Maybe I don't want to be distracted."

Edward stuffed his hands in his pockets and sighed. "And maybe she just doesn't want to come home."

* * *

"I want to go home," she told the pigeon at her feet. The pigeon pecked at a cigarette butt and ignored her.

Rosalie scuffed at the dirt with her oversized sneakers and weighed up her options. What she really wanted was to turn up at the door to the garage and leap into his arms like something from an over-blown chick flick, but there was the risk that Royce and her mother would be looking for her there, and the even greater risk that after everything she'd put him through he would drop her on her ass and send her on her way.

There was Aunt Esme's, of course, but if he didn't want her then what was there for her but years of living off of charity and dealing with Edward's smirks, Alice's hare-brained ideas and constantly, constantly dodging Esme and Carlisle's well-meaning attempts to reconcile her to her mother.

She wondered how much little mousey Bella had seen in the toilets. Perhaps she'd kept her mouth shut and they'd try to see her back with Royce as well. No. Aunt Esme's was a no-go.

The thought that played through her head now was the same one that had taunted her constantly through night and day from the moment she'd hoisted herself into the alley. It wasn't that she was hungry, or skint or that she'd be sleeping rough again tonight; it was the though that she'd never see him or her beloved baby brothers again, and the knowledge that she hadn't given any of them a proper goodbye.

Whether it was a good idea or not, her feet turned her to the east and she started walking in time with the promise in her head.

One last time. One last time.

What could it hurt?

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**Next time: Rosalie finds out exactly what it hurts, Bella meets the outdoors, Alice gets a haircut and Edward has a leeeeeeeeetle secret.**

**I don't expect it to be out the day after tomorrow though - I have a postgrad research essay to write! Unless your reviews convince me fic is more important of course... ;)  
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	18. Commune

**A/N: In which our intrepid crew go camping, and a fun time is had by… well, Emmett enjoys himself.**

**Disclaimer: Eek! All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I am making no profit, and I wasn't for the previous chapters either. My bad. Credit also to the presenters of BBC's Top Gear for the 'peel' line, which I have shamelessly usd for my own purposes.**

**Dedicated to Ffi. Happy Birthday bb! xxxx  
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**Chapter 18 – Commune**

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**This is a gift, it comes with a price**

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Who is the lamb and who is the knife?  
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**Midas is king and he holds me so tight  
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**And turns me to gold in the sunlight**

**- Florence and the Machine – Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)**

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Growing up, Bella had had a somewhat bi-polar relationship with Mother Nature. As a small child who lived with her mother in the acrid deserts of Arizona and California she'd been told that nature was a benevolent force for good that should be enjoyed and conserved for future generations. Admittedly, as her mother had gotten older and become slightly more eccentric the flower power aspect of her teaching had led to rain dances around a tea light on the deck. Bella hadn't seen her mother for several years and often wondered if she'd taken to wearing a tin-foil hat and singing to plants.

Things had changed when she'd moved in with a her father as a teenager and nature had become something green, wet and slimy that would almost certainly kill her if she went near it without her father's protection, armed as he was constantly armed with a twelve bore shotgun and a fishing rod. Perhaps it was because he'd taught his lesson when she was at an impressionable age, but Bella had always tended to agree with Charlie on the nature front. After all she was never going to be entirely safe from accidental self-harm in a locked, padded room so heading into the wilderness was just asking for trouble.

This trip might just force her to reconsider her opinion, though. Yes, she was sat on a tartan rug, book in hand, as far from the designated campfire spot and spiky looking plant life as possible with bug repellent hovering around her in a tangible mist, but she also had the prime spot for admiring the physiques of three attractive, shirtless men. That view made almost anything worthwhile.

"You can't do that," Jasper called from his perch on a rock at the edge of the clearing, "It's not conducive to a proper camping experience."

Emmett looked up from Edward and his pathetic attempt at fire-building and growled. Edward continued waving his lighter ineffectually at the kindling.

"This isn't one of your weirdo history freak things, Whitlock," Emmett hissed, "We're not being graded."

"It's a skill you need to learn," said Jasper, jumping down from the rock with an elaborately tied rope in one hand and snatching the lighter with the other, "it could be a matter of life and death."

"It'll be your death in a minute," said Emmett, who then flexed his arms to Bella's great enjoyment.

A loud "Ahem!" came from near to the river in the direction Alice had disappeared to as soon as the boys had started on the manual labour. Jasper grinned.

"I think she heard you."

Emmett made an extremely rude gesture.

Frustrated, Edward rocked back on his heels to squint up at Jasper. Bella twisted her head uncomfortably to get a better look at the way the muscles rippled in his back. "I appreciate that you're some kind of wilderness god, Jasper, but could you not just let us cheat a bit and then teach us later? When we're warm?"

"And have had a coffee," piped up Bella.

"And some food!" boomed Emmett, "I'm starving!"

Jasper folded his arms and rolled his eyes like a teacher faced with second graders last thing on a Friday.

"I need to set this trap so we can catch some supper. You light the fire however you want to, but don't come crying to me when you die of exposure."

Chucking the lighter at Edward's feet and retrieving his shotgun from its resting place next to a half built tent, he marched off into the woods with his trap, pulling his deerstalker down defiantly as he did so.

"Thank God," said Edward, swiftly lighting the fire with the help of technology, "I refuse to splinter myself to death just because Jasper has a Davy Crockett fetish."

"Do you mind?"

For a tiny little woman, Alice had a seriously loud voice. She also had apparently impeccable hearing. Now the fire was beginning to smoulder and Jasper had gone, Emmett turned his attention to Alice.

"What are you doing?"

From the bushes alongside the river came a rustle and a reply, although Alice was well concealed. "I'm communing with nature."

Edward lay back with his arm thrown over his eyes and groaned. Intrigued, Bella sat up a little straighter on her blanket and put her book down. Emmett began sneaking, surprisingly silently, to where Alice was hiding.

"Oh?" he said, "And how's that treating you?"

With a leap a professional ballet dancer would be proud of he threw himself into the bushes and emerged, one squeal later, holding Alice aloft like a really angry trophy.

Covered in leaves and wriggling in his grasp Alice spat, "I've communed better."

Bella choked with shock.

Alice had disappeared into the bushes by the river looking, well, like Alice. Her clothes were too expensive to be brought on a camping trip, and she looked as impeccable as always – no smudges in her make up, not a hair out of place. Now, now it would be a push to say she had a hair at all. The dark locks that had previously not reached much below Alice's earlobes had been trimmed, fairly roughly, to an even length of about a centimetre all over.

"You've shaved it off!" Bella gasped. Alice raised an eyebrow - they, at least, remained - as if Bella was the one being weird. Emmett put her down gingerly, but whether that was because he, too, was afraid that she'd lost the plot, or whether he was just afraid she was about to kill him, Bella didn't know.

Edward rolled onto his stomach to look.

"You look faintly like Skeletor." He said calmly.

Alice just shrugged. Her smile seemed even bigger now. "I can work with that."

"Why?" Bella was glad Emmett asked; she could barely form coherent thoughts.

"It helps to cleanse my mind. Fresh start, clean slate and all that," Alice flopped down on the ground between Edward and Bella, "where's Jasper?"

"Murdering little furry animals for our supper," said Edward.

Alice nodded as though that was perfectly normal. Bella shook her head sharply; maybe this was one of those lucid dreams where it felt like you were awake but the world was all weird. Alice leant over and caught Bella's ponytail as it flopped round to rest on her shoulder.

"You need a trim," she said, "split ends."

Horrified, Bella snatched her hair out of Alice's hand and edged away from her. Alice guffawed.

"She's teasing you," Edward assured Bella, pushing Alice lightly so she fell on her back, still laughing, "your hair is beautiful and it's not going anywhere. Tell her, Alice."

"Or better yet," said Emmett, dropping down to sit with them, "go tell that boy of yours to stop with the hunter-gatherer shit. We have food. I don't want squirrel for my supper when I could be having ramen noodles and beer."

He gestured over to where a large rucksack was leaning up against the side of one of the tents.

Edward sat up straighter and scowled at him.

"Haven't I told you about hanging that up? Are you trying to attract wild animals?"

Emmett shrugged, "Save Whitlock having to hunt them down wouldn't it?"

"I'm not talking about squirrels and shit, Emmett. I'm talking about bears and things with sharp teeth that even you can't fight."

Emmett winked at Bella, who'd gone a little pale.

"Are you telling me I can't fight a bear?"

Edward leaned over him and clipped him smartly around the back of the head.

"You can't fight a fucking bear. Jesus! What's wrong with you?"

Rubbing his head and pouting slightly Emmett replied, "Like a challenge?"

With an exasperated sigh, Edward threw himself flat on his back again.

"God give me strength."

Emmett's deep laughter rumbled around the clearing as he went off to the rucksack to hunt for beer. Bella was suddenly feeling rather nervous and scooted closer to Alice and tugged at her jacket sleeve.

"Alice, there aren't really any bears here are there?"

Alice, who was now sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed, shook her newly shaven head.

"Don't ask me. Bears are on a totally different wave-length."

"Oh great!" she said, panicked, "so now not only are we going to half freeze, sleep on the ground and live on skinned squirrel for a weekend, we're going to be eaten in our crappy substitutes for beds? Thanks Alice, couldn't you have just gone to yoga and the hairdressers like anybody else?"

"Bella," said Edward soothingly, "Bella it's going to be fine. We're too close to the city for bears." He smiled up at her from the ground and her panic screeched to a halt so that her whole brain could concentrate on admiring him.

"It's very unlikely that there'll be bears, Bella," piped up Jasper, returning to the clearing sans rope trap, "but that's no reason to neglect good camping etiquette."

Emmett presented each of them with a beer and rolled his eyes.

"Are you sure you're not with the wrong Cullen, Whitlock?"

Alice stuck her tongue out at Emmett without opening her eyes, but she smiled softly again as soon as Jasper came to sit behind her and kissed her head. Bella wondered if he'd known she was going for the Sinead O'Conner look beforehand.

"I'm happy with the way things are, thanks. No offence, Edward."

"None taken," said Edward, "you're not really my type."

"Well I dunno," said Emmett, cracking open his own can, "you are with Bella."

Bella chucked her book at his head; he ducked. Edward sat up with a scowl.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Bella had pretty much managed to give up getting offended by Emmett, his total lack of tact was sort of endearing in a painful way, but she was prepared to fake offence if it got Edward all riled up in her defence. He looked _good_ angry. Alice opened her eyes just long enough to give Bella a 'watch this' wink. Emmett shuffled uncomfortably.

"Well, you know. You used to bring home all those hot, blonde, rich sorts."

Bella stiffened, but tried not to look pained. Emmett didn't mean it; Emmett said whatever popped into his head. No need to get all upset about it, especially since Edward appeared to be upset enough for the both of them.

"I didn't bring them home," he spat, "they followed me. I think Mom was paying them in the hopes I might f-" he looked at Bella and swallowed heavily, "– like one of them."

"Ah yes," said Alice, swaying dreamily and sipping at her beer, "the fan girls. How could I forget? I didn't like them, you know." she said the last to Bella in an aside of sorts. Alice's approval was paramount in all things, after all.

"So, didn't you _like_ any of them?" leered Emmett suggestively. Jasper sighed at the innuendo, but Bella leant forward just enough to show everybody that she was interested in the answer.

"No," said Edward shortly, "they didn't appeal."

Emmett's eyebrows rose and he whistled lowly, "So you're saying that before Bella – you haven't _liked _anyone since –"

Alice coughed loudly, and Emmett stopped whatever he was about to say.

Instead he went for, "Dude."

"I thought you and Bella didn't _like _each other yet?" said Jasper, reaching over to tweak Bella's ponytail as he did so. Both Bella and Edward's faces turned puce; Alice lifted her hands to Edward's and pretended to warm them on his blush.

It wasn't like it wasn't the truth that she and Edward hadn't exactly moved past the brief kisses and snuggling stage, but Bella had thought that she could confide in Jasper without him spilling secrets like, well, like Alice did. Annoying pixie was obviously catching. Emmett's face fell. He looked distraught.

"Bella," he said in a low, patronising voice, "do you have any idea how long it's been for him? Blue balls, Bella. Blue balls."

Bella's face was obviously on fire; there was no way it could feel this hot otherwise.

"Don't look at me," she hissed.

Emmett turned his horrified face to Edward.

"Twelve years? Twelve years and you won't –" he clutched at his chest and began writhing about, "that's it. You've killed me man. I'm dead. You happy?"

"Shut. Up." spat Edward.

Shocked at what Emmett seemed to be suggesting, and since her habit of taking things personally hadn't yet subsided, Bella looked at Edward aghast. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Oh go on." said Alice, leaning back into Jasper's embrace, "say it, Bella. Have the row. Go on, say it."

Edward put his head in his hands.

"I'll say it for you!" crowed Emmett. He put on a ridiculously high-pitched voice. "Do I repulse you? Am I covered in boils? Do I bear a more than passing resemblance to your Gran?"

Edward groaned but didn't show his face. Bella took another large swig of beer.

"Thanks, Emmett. You make me sound like the least sexy person on Earth."

Emmett tutted and shook his head sympathetically, "Now Bells, that's not true. Have you seen Jackie Stallone recently?"

"Seriously Emmett, do you have a book of these lines or something? _Backhanded Compliments for the Terminally Plain_?"

Edward dragged his hands down his face and sighed.

"Enough, alright? It's none of your business, Emmett. You are more beautiful than you will ever understand, Bella. The only person who's terminally anything here is McCarty if he doesn't learn to shut his mouth."

Bella blushed again as Edward moved around Alice and Jasper to sit besides her and pull her into his side.

"Aw. Cute." said Alice with a smile.

"Adorable," said Jasper, "like being in seventh grade all over again."

Emmett hollered with laughter and the two of them high-fived over Alice's head. Edward buried his face in Bella's hair to kiss her head, and to whisper "We'll talk about it later" into her ear.

That sounded like a conversation Bella could live without.

* * *

Many, many cans of beer later Bella found herself balancing on her right hand and left foot perilously close to the campfire with Emmett's bulk precariously balanced over her.

"How do you do it?" wailed Alice from the sidelines, "How is somebody so uncoordinated so good at Twister?"

"Fear!" squealed Bella as Emmett's backside hovered uncomfortably close to her face, "Spin! Spin!"

"Right foot on red!" called Jasper, who was having far too much fun sitting out of the game. It was making up for his disappointment at failing to catch a squirrel in his trap, although the others had all been secretly pleased, even Alice. As she had put it, how did you peel a squirrel?

As Bella tried to twist her body to align her foot with where it was supposed to go, Emmett began shaking with uncontrollable laughter.

"I can't do it!" he choked out from above her, "Man down, man! Man down!"

The great mass of Emmett began wobbling, and Bella, with an unusual amount of dexterity and self-preservation, managed to roll out from underneath him and was saved from accidental self-immolation by Edward. Emmett hit the ground with a thump, and then leapt to his feet with a whoop.

"Yeah! Victory to McCarty!"

"It hardly counts, Emmett," said Bella, rubbing at her hip where she'd hit the ground, "I couldn't exactly let you fall on me. You'd be taking me home in a jar."

"Hey!" Emmett pouted, "I resent the implication! Plus you know I wouldn't really fall on you, right?"

"You were faking! You cheating –"

"Emmett is a consummate cheat," snarled Edward with rather more venom than Bella thought was necessary, "mostly because he really fucking hates to lose."

Emmett held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Hey man, chill. I wasn't going to squash her. Maybe she liked having a man over her for once, am I right Bella?"

Edward growled, and for a moment Bella thought he was actually going to launch himself at Emmett like some kind of wild animal. Luckily, before blood was shed, Alice spoke up.

"Boys. Stop it. Emmett, stop being annoying. Edward, stop being such an overprotective dickwad."

Bella couldn't hide a smile at how much Alice sounded like Esme.

With an extravagant roll of his eyes, Emmett stretched and nodded in the direction of his tent.

"Small speaks sense. I'm going to bed before one of us goes in the fire." He winked at Edward, "And buddy, it wouldn't be me."

Exasperated, Edward groaned and threw a twig at Emmett's head, which Emmett then caught and crushed with his hand. Alice and Jasper 'oohed' appreciatively.

"Go to bed, you freak," said Edward.

Emmett pointed his finger at each of them in turn and turned for his tent with a call of "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Unable to help it, Bella blushed.

"Us too!" said Alice, leaping to her feet and dragging Jasper up with her. He folded the twister mat back into its box and tucked it under his arm.

"Do I want to know what you're going to do with that?" asked Edward.

"No," said Alice with a toss of her nearly-bald head, "probably not. But if the tent's a rocking…"

She skipped off to one of the two remaining tents, Jasper faithfully following behind.

To avoid looking at Edward, or the tent they now had to share, Bella stared at the floor as Edward doused the fire.

She didn't feel any less awkward when they were laying side by side in separate sleeping bags, both concentrating on the ceiling of the tent like it held the answer to the meaning of life.

"So," Bella started, feeling brave on account of the beers, "is this weird, stilted conversation time?"

"Emmett should have kept his mouth shut. Sorry about that."

"No, no. I mean, I don't mind. But obviously you do mind, and I don't want you to feel bad, and it's really none of his business…"

"Bella…"

"Sorry," she shuffled further down into her sleeping bag, "Emmett should have kept his mouth shut. And so should I."

"Bella," Edward rolled onto his side to face her, and she turned her head so that they were eye to eye, "I have… issues. But they're for me to work through. They're no reflection on you, you know that right?"

Bella blinked rapidly and tried to slow her breathing down. How did it suddenly get so hot in here?

"R-Right." she said.

Edward grinned, and his eyes shone weirdly bright in the dark of the tent, "Good. Because I promise if you hold on for me, I'll make it worth your wait."

It was hours before Bella managed to sleep.

* * *

**Somewhere.**

Feet hurt. Feet goddamn hurt. Goddamn it.

The problem with hitch-hiking almost a hundred and fifty miles was that you were pretty damn reliant on the driver to drop you somewhere that wasn't the boondocks. Rosalie had been lucky; not many people would pick up somebody that looked like she did by that time and those that did may have been as bad as what she was running away from in the first place. Getting as far as the outskirts of Seattle itself without being killed was an achievement in itself, so it was really rather ungrateful of her to curse the names of the chirpy old couple who'd dropped her at the end of the trail they were planning to hike.

Still, she'd been walking for twenty four hours straight now with no sign of civilisation. Hell, she'd be pleased to see some mad old mountain man at this point, especially if he was any good with feet.

Now, she was starting to hallucinate. It had got dark hours ago, or it felt like hours at least, but she'd trudged on hoping to spot somewhere to sleep, or, even better, someway of getting back to Seattle before she turned into a mountain man herself. Exhausted, she'd started to believe that she was actually going round in circles, which was ridiculous as this was a proper trail and she'd been obsessively careful about stepping off it. Then, in the far distance, she'd thought she had spotted the glare of a fire. She'd felt like dancing, till her feet complained, and had set off towards it with enthusiasm she hadn't thought she could possess. A fire meant people, people meant the chance of food and a ride to the city, and the city meant a foot spa. God, what she wouldn't do for a foot spa.

Then, the fire had disappeared. Of course it had. People dying of thirst in the desert saw an oasis in mirages; she saw fire and the prospect of foot spas. She was going crazy, wasn't she? It was too dark to see her footing now, and out of fear of stepping off the trail and getting really lost she flopped down and leaned against the closest tree.

Sending a quiet prayer up to a god she'd never really believed in that she wasn't sleeping in poison ivy, shattered, starving and blistered, Rosalie slept.

* * *

**Next time: Things come to a head. Every silver lining has a cloud, after all.**

**Reviews are love!  
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